Lucky Me
by Rui
Summary: Original character. Told from character's POV. It's not all roses and jokes when you get 'recruited' to the X mansion, any one who tells you other wise should be shot.
1. Guest Speakers

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 001  
_**

* * *

**_Authoress'_**_ **Note:**_I started to revamp this story, officially, Oct 2012, I am attempting to update the references and edit out a lot of the errors. ^^ Please be patient with me while I go through this process. I have over 900 pages to read through in order to complete this rather daunting task. I hope you enjoy this story! **  
**

* * *

I was really surprised to see _them_ at my school. Even more surprised when none of my classmates recognized _them_ from the (semi)nightly news.

Not even the redhead!

Then again, I probably had more reason than any of my classmates to watch and record the nightly news - especially when it's about mutants.

Still, I never in my life dreamed about meeting one, let alone _seven_.

Then they spoke, not all at once of course, but one at a time (okay, duh right?). Anyway, the redhead was elegant, very well spoken, and had a few cute jokes in her speech. While the one with red sunglasses was uptight, I suppose would be the right word. He spoke as if he was breaking ground for to a bank. The next guy had the boy-next-door look (he was _really_ cute), was hilarious, and definitely the comedian of the group. The dark woman with white hair was very serious, but not as starchy as the guy with the red glasses. The others were teachers from a sister school.

That's when I zoned out, or should I say when the Irish man began to talk about how wonderful a school that went all year was, I zoned out.

I guess the big guy of the show was someone a few others and I recognized from news conferences. He was Professor Savior or something along those lines and mainly talked about mutants and why we shouldn't be scared of them. Pretty nervy; how can humans not be scared of mutants when mutants are scared of themselves?

When he finished, everyone clapped, then the bell rang, and we ran to lunch. It had taken _them_ about two hours of class, and something told me that's the real reason they had gotten the applause that they did.

Everyone at lunch buzzed about mutants, even more so when the guest speakers came into the lunch room. They seated themselves at the farthest table, in the darkest corner since the janitor hadn't replaced any of the blown out bulbs any time this year.

"Hey, ain't you the girl that knows a lot about that stuff?" John Deggs prodded, poking me in my arm because I wouldn't turn around to talk to him.

"A freak that's looking for her kind," Kris Simmons added with a smirk. I knew he smirked because he made a _point_ of letting me see him smirk. He liked to smirk.

These were the geniuses I was forced to go to school with for most my life. I was a freak because I wasn't interested in the things almost everyone else was. Sex, drugs, art, music, and other oddities like that were boring to me. Mutants, now there was an interest worth my time.

I made it through the lunch line and huffed in frustration. The table the guest speakers took was my table. Sighing, I walked over to one of the more pleasant people I knew and sat down.

Before I could bring the first bite of food to my mouth, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. Swallowing air, I looked around the area for the reason I felt like a bug in a jar. Nonchalantly as I could, I glanced over to the shadowy table. Sure enough, three of them were gazing like lions studying a pack of wounded deer, while the others seemed to be playing with some sort of Ipad or something.

_Just pretend they're not there_, I commanded myself and shifted until my back faced them.

"Can you believe it?" Mandy Craton asked, enthused about something.

"What?"

"That _they_," she whispered, nodding her head in the general direction of the guest speakers, "are here looking for people to come to their school."

"You're kidding!"

"No. Rumors are-" Mandy looked around her, as if to make sure no one was too close. "They are looking for mutants."

Well, that made me completely lose my appetite, but Josh Goldings was more than happy to take my tray out of my way. I felt sick. I wanted to go home. School suddenly became a burden, more than it already was of course.

The bell rang and people shuffled slowly out of the cafeteria instead of sprinting like they had from the auditorium. My next class was P.E. so I took the long way to get there. On my way, I noticed the visitors had relocated and were now standing by the vending machines. The redhead was playing with the electronic pad with a very determined look on her face.

"Kerry!" someone screamed.

I turned to see Mandy. I stopped to wait for her, unfortunately and unknowingly, I paused in front of _them_.

Mandy ran up to me and just as she came to a stop, a shrill noise filled the air. Thankfully I didn't have any books and my hands were available to cover my ears, dulling the racket. My friend's face twisted in pain, as she threw her books down, slapping her palms over her ears.

The entire body of students within earshot did the same, eyes frantic to find the source of the noise, but before it could be found, it stopped.

The principal, Mr. Carolton, came barreling down the hall, crimson from his neck to the roots of his thinning gray hair.

"Billy Zbornak! You are in _so_ much trouble!" Mr. Carolton exclaimed grabbing a very dazed Billy off the fire alarm handle.

Satisfied with the excuse of Billy pulling the alarm again, everyone continued to go back to their business. I would have too, but it seemed to me that the noise wasn't the fire alarm. Eyeing the visitors, I noticed one of the teachers, the blonde one in white, was on the receiving end of some very hard glares from her party. Her response was to shrug.

"Kerry! We're going to be late!"

I'll never know if anyone else fumbled with the idea that Billy was an innocent victim to some other 'force' like, oh I don't know, maybe our speakers?

* * *

I emerged from the girl's locker room after changing into my P.E. clothes, and what was the first thing my eyes landed on?

_Them_.

_Again_!

If I were the paranoid type I would have sworn they were following me. However, they had Mandy caught up in a discussion of sorts and paid no mind to anyone else. I snorted at the unknown insult they handed me.

Mandy didn't care or know a thing about the world around her if it didn't deal with the latest fashion or a sale at _Currey's_. Why they were talking to her was beyond me and flatly none of my business.

I turned and quickly got annoyed by the swishing sound my pants made when they rubbed together as I walked. Sweat started to surface on my face, I didn't really know why, but I guessed it was because I was wearing a thick long-sleeved turtleneck in the middle of April. Greg called me over to play basketball with some others and the whole weird _them _and Mandy thing faded away.

The game was a great distraction. Mandy even joined in although she promptly _thump_ed the ball on her foot, and sent it rolling across the gym floor in the visitors' direction. I blinked back a confused thought, was the air around the ball a bit—_blurred_ or was it just me?

"Go get it!" one of the seniors fumed. He pointed at me and then to the ball in the hands of the funny guy of the visitors.

"No way," I mouthed.

"You're the closest, just go get it," Misty demanded tartly.

Fine.

I turned on my heels and slowly made my away across the gym floor. Butterflies were doing the hokey-pokey in my stomach as I drew closer. The man in the wheelchair, Professor something or another, held the little electronic pad in one of his hands. The funny-man of the group still had the ball, smiled, and held it up.

I raised my hands to indicate I was ready for the ball; he threw it in my general direction. Instead of throwing it _to_ me, it sailed over my head, and back to the part of the gym where we were playing.

I watched as the game resumed. Glaring back at the man, I marched back to the game; my face burning with embarrassment. As soon as my sneaker touched the game area the orange ball flew toward me. I panicked, my mind had been busily mulling over how much I suddenly disliked the clown in the corner, who had taken _my_ seat at lunch, and made me miss my art class because of the assembly. Thankfully my first reaction was to guard my face, which led to me catching the ball instead of being pounded by it.

"Pass it! I'm open!" the same thickheaded senior who told me to get the ball screamed. Without even thinking, I shoved the ball away from my chest, and sent it hurling through the air at him.

_THUMP_

The senior, who I think is named Darwin, was sprawled out on the floor. His head slammed into the thickly padded area of the concrete wall of the gym (which he had been standing a good three feet from) as his hands tightly gripped the ball.

"Wow." I heard someone whisper behind me, the closeness made me jump.

"That's some arm," Darwin wheezed out, as he was assisted to his feet. He smiled at me and chunked the ball toward another person. Getting a sick feeling all over, I walked to the bleachers, and climbed to the top seat, hoping no one wanted to sit up there as well.

The middle of my back itched suddenly. Reaching underneath my shirt (effectively choking me because as I said before was a turtleneck) I dug my fingers into the itchiness. I felt my spine; it had something wrong with it. Examining the area with my fingers, I felt several small and large bumps along my back bone.

"Oh, man," I whispered as I pulled my hand out from under my shirt, and brought it to my face. Dark blood covered the entire length of my trembling hand. The blood was enough to kick my brain into 'freak-out' mode.

Thinking quickly, I dashed down the bleachers, into the locker room, and then into a bathroom stall. With shaking hands I stripped off the thick turtleneck. It took a second to realize it was already drenched in the sticky blood.

"Oh man, ohmanohman..." I repeated over and over as tears of fear slipped down my face.

What was wrong with me? I grabbed my already ruined shirt and started to touch it to my bleeding back. Pulling it back to examine it, I felt my breakfast lurch up my throat.

Pale bloody skin was taken off of my back as well as more blood. As if on cue, I heard a sick _plop_ on the floor. My tear-filled eyes looked down and saw the same nasty mess which was on my shirt had fallen on the floor — just in a bigger chunk of blood and skin. Poking my head out of the stall to check the room, I made sure no one was around. Thank goodness. I had sworn I had heard someone walk in after me.

Creeping out of the stall, I walked (hunched over) to the full-length mirrors on the parallel wall to the main door. As I turned to look at the repulsive mess on my back, the door swung open.

I couldn't catch Mandy in time; she started to scream and fled from the locker room.


	2. Plane

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 002  
_**

* * *

Ever have one of _those_ lives?

I did.

I hadn't until a few days ago. I had a slightly strange, teenager-with-a-weird-obsession kind of life. Going to school in a normal West coast school, making grades that made parents rant about the lack of studying and such.

Now?

Now my life was over.

I suppose I should tell it like it was. Well, like it was to me, which is the only way I could tell it I guess. Remember I was in school when my back started to rebel against my skin?

Yes, that's right; skin came _off_ my back. Bloody, nasty, fleshy piles of goo were all over my clothes and the locker room floor.

"_What. The. Hell_!" was the ringing words Mandy left in my ears as she ran from the locker room. I couldn't catch her; I couldn't even move or speak. My eyes were so blurry with tears I probably would have run into a wall before I got her. So stunned was I, that I just stood there, tears pouring down my ashen face, and blood weeping down my back. I didn't want to touch me; I didn't want to see me.

But I looked. Looked to see if I could see my spine since there should have been no flesh there left. Instead, I could only see dark red. The sight made me completely lose control over my stomach. I threw up my breakfast. Not only was I a disgusting mess, I now smelled like vomit. Such a picture perfect moment, I should have been surprised that one of the yearbook staff didn't pop up from the toilet, snapping a camera in my face.

I can't say what happened next, except I hit my knees, and heard people burst in through the door. Never looking, freaked out, and weak from lose of blood and breakfast what else was I supposed to do but pass out?

When I came through to the sound of my name being repeated like a panicked chant, I saw the red head from the earlier assembly looking down at me. After my eyes fluttered and stayed open, she smiled in, I guess, relief.

In response to her question if I was all right, I groaned.

"I'll take this as a yes," she said softly to my incoherent reply. Personally, I thought it would translate into something to the effect of 'I just threw up, my body is coming apart at the seams, how do you _think_ I feel?' but whatever.

"Kerry," came a stern voice as the red head helped me into a sitting position. Ignoring the voice for a moment, I took quick inventory of where I was since I was for _sure_ no longer in the locker room—or school for that matter. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn I was in a plane!

"Plane?" I muttered, my throat dry and scratchy. My head throbbed as I swung my legs over the side of the bed I was resting on.

"Yes, we are in a plane," the comedian, who was not on my good list since the basketball thing, chimed in. If I weren't so tired I would have given him a death glare, if the little colored spots that appeared in my vision _allowed_ me to find him.

"Kerry, do you know what happened?" came the stern voice again. I tried to look in the general direction of the voice and then shook my head.

"Was bleedin', Mandy started to scream—then—then I don't remember—" whatever I didn't think I remembered, I did just then as I tensed up in realization.

I was only wearing my sports bra and wind pants in the locker room!

Sudden embarrassment crept across my face as I nimbly felt my sides, but instead of my rebellious skin, I felt bandages. Oh great, I was bandaged and probably drugged since it didn't itch anymore.

Then I had to ask—_who _took off my bra!? Talk about total humiliation.

"Yes, and then you passed out when we came into the room. Do you realize what you are, Kerry?"

In trouble?

Humiliated?

Dazed and highly confused?

A freak?

"No, you are not a freak."

I was corrected by the deep-voiced individual. If I wasn't already on the highest creeped out level, then his answer would have sent me in to frantic panic because I had only _thought_ my answer. Yes, only _thought_.

"You are a gifted individual," he began; (I thought only my mom referred to me as that) "You are what the world terms a homo-superior."

That term was familiar and not in a good way…

"You are a mutant."

…

Oh _crap_! I was a genetic freak?

I started to shake my head, my eyes finally clear of the spots only to be replaced with tears of denial. There was no _way _I was a mutant! I only learned about them, I was _not_ one of _them_.

"No," I choked out, looking up at the man— the Professor whatever— who only stared back at with seemingly no emotion. Then, slowly, everything about that day started to make sense.

Why they appeared out of nowhere at a little no-name school in Washington, what Mandy said about them looking for kids to go to their _mutant_ school and -_Mandy_!

"She will never remember what she saw," came a crisp woman's voice.

How the _heck_ were these people able to answer questions I didn't voice? Oh yeah, they're probably mutants.

"I want to go home," I begged, and then promptly started balling.

If I had a half-working brain, I wouldn't have wanted to go home. In their plane, yes their _plane_, we went flying to my house (a bit of an over dramatic thing to me since my house was about five minutes away from the school). I went home to my mother and my little sister. To the house of my mother who _hated_ mutants (which I didn't know until then) and my little sister.

I don't want to relate all the details, but needless to say she told me to get out of her house or she'd call the police. That hurt. I never thought it would hurt so much. One of the people asked if I could get a few things and with iciness I never knew my mom possessed she said take everything or she'd burn it.

After I packed everything I could in the few sacks I was allowed to have, I sat with my legs to my chest, arms wrapped around my knees, and my head down. Where was I going to go? What was going to happen to me?

Of course, _they_ already had an answer.

_They_ already planned on taking me away before they even knew who I was.

All that happened two days ago.

I couldn't believe I was in _New York_ and clear across the country from my family's home. From my mom, who I tried to call and talk to but she kept hanging up on me. As for my little sister, I e-mailed her school account, but she wrote that she wasn't permitted to talk to me because I am a no-account mutie. My mom's words, not her own.

As for my skin?

Well, it was still leaving me. Piece by piece it peeled off and was being replaced by a gray, milky colored flesh. My spine started to swell not too long after landing in New York. So far at the _Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning_, I hadn't learned anything but that I didn't think I'd ever see my family again. I didn't think I'd ever go to a normal public school again. Just like I didn't think I'd ever be normal again.

A freak who happens to be a mutant, whose only power so far was grossing everyone out with my _skin_ falling from my body. My life was over, what little life I had, and this was supposed to be the start of a 'new' life or so said the bald guy in a wheelchair. I really had to learn these people's names.

Especially since I didn't think I would be leaving for a while.


	3. Settling in

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 003**_

* * *

"I have made my decision."

When I say those words, they don't sound so final. More like, I've made my decision, but I'm still willing to change. Whenever Professor uttered these words, they meant business. I think the man could utter "poop" in his sleep and it would be a command. I know one of the people in that place who would probably fulfill the command without batting his eye.

I had nothing against being told what to do as long as I got to throw a fit at some point in time.

I also didn't have anything against Mr. Summers (at least not _much_). He's a nice, kind of starchy guy with a supermodel for a wife— at least I _think_ they're married. I was still learning names, faces, and _codenames_ though I wasn't allowed into the sub-basement areas.

What I _did_ have something against was being told what to do and Mr. Summers together. They clicked too well and therefore clashed with me. It didn't irritate him that I didn't know everyone's name or know where the forks went in the kitchen, but what did get to him was that I didn't have a clue about physical activities. Weren't they in the gym when I was playing basketball? Except a few times, I mostly ran _away_ from the ball.

Since I didn't feel exactly comfortable at the place, I had only been there a week; I didn't mouth off or complain. Heck, I rarely talked and except for fear of starving to death I made myself venture to the kitchen at the weirdest hours possible to grab something to eat.

One would think at a school type place that at 3:46 in the morning no one would be in the kitchen, _wrong_! They were playing card games, two of the group didn't even know who I was, but that was okay because I didn't know who they were either.

"This is the new recruit, Kerry," Mr. Funny Man(er, Bobby?) said as I muttered a 'hi' and attacked the oranges on the counter. "As you can tell, she is a regular motor mouth."

Did this guy have something personal against me or what? If I hadn't felt like such a stranger (but I was, duh) I would have death glared him. The other guys, one who looked really nice in his button-down shirt and the other with blonde hair and a western type shirt, smiled at me. It was almost a 'poor new kid' type smile which was not very comforting to say the least.

I didn't get introduced to the two guys because after I secured two oranges in my hands, I headed out. I heard another smart aleck comment given by Funny Man. It was something about stuffing my bra or close to that. I would rather have played target practice with the oranges and his head the target.

Boy, did I get off track. First off, let me go back to Mr. Summers. Like I said I had no coordinated physical ability whatsoever. Never took gymnastics, I tried dance but I side-stepped on another girl's foot once and broke her little toe—I was that klutzy. I guess he wasn't too thrilled with starting with yellow and blue to get me to the point of being green. That's pretty pathetic, but it's very Kerry.

Back to Professor Xavior, which I was told by almost everyone to call him Prof, Professor X, Charles, or whatever didn't make him flinch (meaning Chuck like the hairy guy did). I didn't say it out loud but I had a serious block against calling any adult twenty-five or older by their first names.

After my daily medical exam to tell me that, yes, my skin was still rotting off, I sat in his office. He was seated, in all his glory, in a yellow chair that seemed to hum _Skip to My Lou_ if one was bored enough to notice. While shuffling papers and such, he just nonchalantly popped off (okay, so he was in the middle of why the X-Men exist and stuff, but my attention span is _real_ short on that subject) that, oh yeah, I was going to start school in two weeks.

_What_!

At least I wanted to say that out loud but my jaw was too busy hitting the ground to form words.

"This facility was created for higher education in _specific_ areas. I believe having a normal high school experience will allow you healthy interaction with others your age."

"B-but!" was all I could stutter. This was me, the genius that had a way with words. I could have slapped myself, and did later, about my lousy one-worded defense.

"And if you are worried about your appearance, there is a device the other—physically changed students use called image inducers. It will allow you to move about places outside the school grounds without worry of persecution."

Then the Professor went on about my school I'd be attending, and how, later, if there was anything I needed most likely a few of the female residents would go shopping by next week. To this he sighed, shaking his head.

When I finally did get my voice back, I said really didn't want to go to a public school again, especially since I didn't know anyone around here. He looked at me, interlaced his fingers, and simply replied, "I have made my decision."

A day later, my brain was functioning again; it was the only muscle that could function without pain after the workout Mr. Summers made me go through (evil man). I was _so_ glad _I_ didn't get a say so in my life. I was _so_ glad my blood just said, "Hey! I think I'm going to mutate to turn myself into genetic freak". Then, _they_ say, "Hey! You're coming with us, the genetic freaks with spandex" (I had yet to see them in uniform on the upper floors, or maybe I should leave my room more?)! And _now_, "You're going to a public school because I said so!"

When did control over my life switch to other people's control? Weren't they busy with their lives to mess with mine? Dumb question I know, 70 percent of a person's lifetime was spent telling others how to live theirs. I think the other 30 percent was breathing, maybe eating and sleeping, too.

* * *

"Well, the good thing is," the doctor sighed, adjusting his glasses, "Is that you have an under skin. Your top layer of skin is peeling like as if recovering from a deep sunburn." He again sighed and then looked at me over the top of his arms which were crossed over the back of his chair he straddled.

"And?" I asked, kind of hopeful he'd say something along the lines that it was normal flesh underneath.

"And," he clicked his tongue, "Your spine seems to have some—bulges."

Why was a man (who looked like a big blue teddy bear and scared me out of my wits the first time I saw him) who had three letters after his name talking simply? Easy, first time in his little underground clinic, I was doped up on painkillers and wheeling from the fresh knowledge about what I was and simply said, "I'm an idiot, please use dummy terms."

"Bulges? That sounds bad," my voice was getting shaky. I could have said it sounded painful but I already knew it was that. I didn't tell anyone. I was already a burden and having them know how many times I woke up feeling like I was being stabbed in the back wasn't so important.

"Your body seems to be taking the changes all in stride. Adjusting the correct number of red blood cells, and the internal organs are producing enough-" the blue doctor studied me; I had a look of pure panic on my face I was sure. I just knew he was going to spit out a twenty-dollar word with wings, because it would fly right over my head. "-Well, you're doing well."

"But what are the bulges? I mean, what are they going to turn into?" _Please_ not something freaky like tendrils, I begged anyone who might have decided to ease drop into my brain.

"It's a surprise." That is _not_ a very comforting statement from a doctor. "I'm not one hundred percent positive, there is another person I need to consult on a theory I have, but until then I'm not too sure."

"What's your theory?"

"Well, considering how far apart the bulges are and the fact your shoulder blades are spacing-" dramatic pause here, which I did _not_ need, "-wings."

The world slammed on its breaks again. Well, truthfully, the world started to spin and got blurry, but it just didn't have the same effect.


	4. Daisy Mea

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 004_**

* * *

Ever met someone you knew was the personification of a word?

Like Mr. Thinks-He's-So-Funny-Man Bobby was the living embodiment of the word "jerk". Honestly, he tried to be funny with me and all I could do was sigh, roll my eyes, and glare directly in front of me. I was surprised I hadn't cracked the floor or something with the way I was always staring so hard at it.

And yes, I call him Bobby because even though he was over 25 he acted like such a two-year old that I could hardly tell the difference.

Mr. Summers turned into personal trainer man that even hell spat back out for being too tough. I guess his word would be "strict". I finally (after two weeks) crawled out from under the rock I'd been hiding under (my room), snaked downstairs to eat with the rest of the people, and the first thing he did was steal my cookie!

I was sitting there about to nibble it like a rabid mouse and he snatched it away saying something about it throwing off my muscle-sugar-whatever.

Who steals other people's cookies for crying out loud?

And I met the reason I wasn't suppose to start my new school at Salem Center High. This was worse than skunk woman, Oreo (I still couldn't pronounce her name!), and Mrs. Jean (I had a tough time associating her with her Nazi husband- it was _one_ freakin' cookie!) combined. Her name was Daisy Meagon Bloome. Wasn't that just too-cute?

Well, let me tell you the whole story. Okay, not the _whole_ story because I would have to give credit to laugh-at-my-own-jokes Bobby, so I snipped to keep it short (maybe).

On that day at six, Mr. Summers came to my door and started to lightly _pound_ on it. I grumbled, literally fell out of bed, opened the door a crack to say 'in a minute', and then went about my business of getting ready for 'drop and give me a million'. I was used to the routine but I have to admit it gave me a small pleasure being able to shut the door on his face. I was weird, this I know.

So halfway through, "You're doing it wrong," and "Bend at the knees!" This tall guy (the blonde one from a few nights ago in the kitchen?) came into the gym and said that we're supposed to be in the main hall in a few minutes. Also, that the Prof wanted to see Mr. No-cookies-for-you-Summers right away.

Of course, the man said the exercises were over and went right away to the Professor. The blonde guy, who helped me get off of the padded table, (I hate weight training, that much I had decided) introduced himself as Sam Guthrie.

"Ah haven't seen too much of ya," Sam said simply, watching as I panted with my sweaty bandaged chest heaving. Little did he know I was having what I refer to as a 'stick up', meaning the shooting pain in my back started up again.

Man, it _hurt_.

"Yeah," I croaked out, my elbows on my knees and my entire back curved to the ceiling, well, skylights. "I'm not much for new places."

"Ah know what ya mean. When Ah first got here, dang, must have been near six years ago, Ah hid in my room too. Course that didn't last too long, they'll starve ya out. Ah guess it was easier for me 'cause Ah had other kids my age to talk to and stuff."

There were only two parts of his mini getting-to-know-you speech that caught my attention, the first was 'starve you out' and the second was 'kids my age.'

"How can they starve you out?" I asked, straightening up after the invisible knives begun to only throb instead of stab and twist at my spine.

"They hide the food." I looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. How can they hide food? "Ya see, they have a boat house where Scott and Jean stay and if they think a new person isn't mingling enough, they take all the food down there and make you ask or something like that."

Ah ha! So the cookie Nazi also took everything else! Did I mention I had a serious problem when people touch anything with an absurd amount of pointless calories in it and take it away from me?

Standing up, I wobbled, and began to look for my towel. I didn't really know what else to say to him, so I kind of smiled and said 'nice to meet you' while making a mad dash for the door. I was a weird chicken who had a fetish for cookies—it was chocolate chip, dumb Summers.

So after a quick shower, dispensing of my bandages and rewrapping them, (the top part of my arms and most of my legs now were losing skin) I slunk downstairs. I had a death grip on the railing as I went down the stairs _very_ slowly. I had a habit of not knowing how to operate my own feet when I got nervous.

I heard talking coming from the side room, I think the proper title was the 'sitting room.' It's more like a place they stick you so you didn't see too much of the mansion or the people in it. Whatever it was called in snotty society, I sighed and tried sneak over to the half-open door to peak in.

A small group was collected in the room. Please forgive my names, but I was still learning. There was Cookie Man (Mr. Summers), Mrs. Jean, Professor, a new guy I hadn't seen before with a business suit and wavy blonde hair, and the Oreo woman sitting around. They were talking about why the person (who I couldn't see) was here. I wondered if they had that speech memorized.

"Whatcha doing out here?" a voice asked _right _by my ear.

I yelped in surprise. Then I tried to turn around to see who it was and ended up tripping backwards over my own feet, crashed through the doors, and landed on my arse in the occupied room.

I glared, finally, at Funny man who was leaning against the doorframe smirking at me. I didn't have to look to know everyone was probably staring at me.

"This is our other new student. Kerry, would you come over here and introduce yourself?"

It was Mrs. Jean's voice. I knew I was red as her hair at this point but decided to save what little dignity I had left and clambered to my feet, completely ignoring mean-man Bobby's outstretched hand. On my feet again, I began to walk to the middle of the room, only to trip over the rug but this time it wasn't a complete wipe out.

Shoot me. Put me out of my misery.

"This is Daisy Bloome," Oreo lady politely told me. The girl stared back at me with big blue eyes and a sweet smile.

The girl just _looked_ bouncy and I was proven right when she chirped (I'm not kidding!) "I go by Daisy-Mae. It's short for Daisy Meagon."

Somebody shoot me again. Where did she come from, Green Acres? Maybe even Kansas with that type of name.

"Hi," I muttered, "I'm Kerry D'mon." I wanted to ask where her braids and overalls were, but remembered I didn't want to set a bad example by doing that or something crazy like falling on my bee-hine trying to get into a room.

"She goes by Grace, as you could probably tell," Bobby-jerk chimed in.

I couldn't exactly throw him a nasty glare since he was behind me, but I did let my shoulders tense.

And you know what she did? The _worst_ thing anyone under this roof can possibly do, she laughed at his joke! I about gagged on my own tongue. After she laughed, there was no stopping him. Bobby-meanie kept dishing them out and the more he told, the closer I inched to the door.

Later that night, Daisy-Mae (I could feel cavities coming already) bounded into my room and said she wanted to be friends. The word I think that would describe her best is "naive".

She's the type of girl you know in high school who has all the guys after her, perfect GPA, and is in every club. Daisy-Mae even called me Grace, thinking that Bobby-meanie was for real.

I really wanted not to like her, I tried _so_ hard not to be nice to her, but it wasn't any use. Daisy-Mae was one of those girls that was so smart and ditzy at the same time you felt like throwing a barbed wire fence around her and say 'Don't feed Chocolate' or something.

"What's your power?" She asked, after a half an hour of talking about her family and such, since I was hesitant to discuss my past.

"My skin drops off," I deadpanned. Her face dropped for a moment, but then her smile came back on and she said something about hers being a healer's touch. Another half hour passed before she hopped out of my room. I was left to wonder if her smile was due to plastic surgery or was she really just _that_ happy? And what was she smoking to make her that way?

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, in two days I got to go shopping for furniture and room stuff. It was embarrassing having one of the random people come get me for dinner, see my Wal-Mart bags and ask if it was trash. I had to say no and tell them that was my clothes. Talk about embarrassing.

My last thought was: Would cookie-taker-Summers take Daisy-Mae's cookies too? (_It was **traumatic** for me_!)


	5. Shopping

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 005_**

* * *

I was not rebellious by nature but I didn't let something happen to me and forget about it.

Especially something as traumatic as when something dear and precious to me is ripped from my hands! Yes, I was talking about the cookie. I would not let that drop. Not until that _man_ knew you didn't take a blend of sugar and chocolate away from a girl while she was depressed.

But back to rebellion, I was more of a silent strike back type. You know the ones who won't get into a fist fight, but when given the chance I was going to break something under the hood of that person's vehicle. Not that it would take long to break a car since I was not a mechanic and I happened to be a klutz.

So when we finally went shopping in the middle of the week for me and Daisy-Mae's furnishings and such, my time had come!

Daisy-Mae's was all excited about the trip thinking, "School clothes!" But then they broke the news to us. We weren't going to be attending a public school, no indeed; we were going to be going to P.S.S.C, Private School of Salem Center.

At least it didn't have "for Girls" at the end of it. If it did, I would just signed myself into a convent at that point. But, that is _not_ the worst of it. Oh, don't get me wrong, they served sweets, which Mr. Cookie-Monster Summers couldn't take away from me, but their uniform was -well it was _plaid_.

_Not that bad,_ I thought at first. Then I saw them. Pink, yellow, and blue jumper skirt things with light blue button down shirts.

They looked like a roll of LifeSavers threw up all over them! And Daisy-Mae's reaction was simply to say "How retro!" while mine, though unvoiced was, "How repulsive!"

I thought the designer was either blind or went shopping at a discount store to come up with _that_ monster.

It would take more than Professor's angry glare to get me into that thing! Where were they sending us? Salem Center School for Clowns?

Back to shopping. There was a whole herd of us going, three car loads in fact. Two vans and a Durango were parked out front of the house when I made my appearance (makes it sound like I'm important doesn't it?). The role call so far was Mrs. Jean, Skunk lady (Rouge?), Miss Munroe (I've given up on her first name), Sam (called so because he is under 25), Bobby-meanie (ick), the cookie warden, and some others that I had seen around but never asked their names.

After about thirty minutes and many sighs, it was decided who was going where and what they were to get. This, as one will be able to tell, was finalized without my consent.

I got stuck with the two meanies and the cutesie one. Don't ask me how! I swear I did nothing to deserve it (I think). Mr. Summers, Bobby-meanie, Daisy-Mae, and I were to get the things we needed for our rooms. The two guys had to come to drive and Cookie hawk was there to pay and keep an eye on the rest of us. I could believe that with Bobby's personality.

"Watch the Twinkies, Hank!" The warden shouted.

Oh not fair! He let Dr. Hank have sweets but not me? Wait a sec, was Dr. Hank holding out on me? I'd have to look into this further.

* * *

We went to NYC to get 'linens' for the bed. I cracked a smile when Bobby-meanie said 'linens', it just sounds too proper of a word for him to use. Daisy-Mae was all excited, talking about the trends of the season and such. I don't think Cookie-hog liked it too much. Just as she was going into a speech about how great goldfish designs were—wouldn't you know his _favorite_ song came on and he just _had_ to turn it up?

"Do you two know what you want?" Bobby-meanie asked, after, by some miracle, Daisy-Mae piped down.

"No way! You have to shop around!" Was her cheerful reply.

Bobby then looked at me; I looked back at him, "No idea."

"Great," muttered the Sweet-tooth Summers.

I swear they took us to the largest home-furnishing store there was in the country. I about hyperventilated at the size of the bed sheets section (a.k.a. 'linens'). But Daisy-Mae insisted that the room revolves around the comforter, therefore we should pick that out first and work from there.

I wanted to cry. So did the guys, who had to take a deep breath and trudge on ahead with us. Somehow I think they lost a bet of some sort or were getting a pay raise or something to be insane enough to go shopping for something as "vital as a personality" as Daisy-Mae put it and with two girls.

"Oh my goodness! Pink!" Is all I heard as a streak of brunette hair and denim (yes, she broke out her overalls) raced into the comforters without looking back.

"You take that one, I'll stay with her," Mr. Summer's commanded Bobby, who took off after the hyper girl.

I was sort of glad our little group broke up, especially when I heard Daisy-Mae's screams of enthusiasm throughout the entire department. I ducked and weaved through the aisles like a secret agent running from gunfire when it sounded like she was getting too close. After about two hours, we ran right into each other—both still empty handed, but it wasn't too long afterwards that I found something that interested me.

"Is it too late to trade?" Bobby-meanie asked, nearly begged.

"Sorry, Drake. I'm sticking with the quiet one."

I thought briefly about starting be all screamy and such like a thirteen-year-old at an Justin Beiber concert, but decided my revenge would be much —sweeter. With every step he came closer, my smile broadened. When he stopped behind me, I felt a smirk coming on. Before I turned around to him, I pointed and sweetly said, "Those would be great."

His response was to almost snort in disdain at my choice of sheet set.

Got to love the people who thought of Oreo cookie bed sheets.

I told you I wasn't much for outspoken rebellion (at least at the time) but I just loved the sheets. After much eyebrow rising, Mr. Summers finally took the sheets in hand. He was too proud to push a cart around, which made me wish they had some really embarrassing design print I could stick with him like, I dunno, half naked guys or pink bunnies or something.

But wouldn't you know Oreo came out with whole _line_ of bedroom things to go along with the 'linens'! It didn't take but an hour to round up the rest of the stuff I'd need for my room (mainly Oreo, and when they didn't have that, black and white).

While Cookie man was paying for the stuff (after all the fuss she raised about color, Daisy-Mae's choice was _all_ black, very strange) he told me to go find the other two. Man, no wonder he was leader—he was bossy. So off I went into the jungle of women and sales to find the other two people.

I found them all right, in the middle of the electronics, blasting radios, and giving the little old man with a hearing aid a heart attack.

"May I have this dance?" Bobby-meanie asked, bowing to Daisy-Mae, who giggled and nodded. They, hand in hand, swung each other around the radios and right into the collectibles.

"Hey!" I shouted over the latest DAS release, "Mr. Cook-er, Summers wants to leave!"

"We'll be there in a sec, at the moment, we're busy. Time for a dip!" Bobby-meanie shouted back, I rolled my eyes, and turned to leave. I was halfway through the section when my shoulders tensed, eyes clamped shut, and the world seemed to stop.

I heard a thunderous _clash_.

"Oh, _crap_!" Came Bobby's instant reply.

"Oh no!" Came Daisy-Mae's reply.

I told myself not to turn around, pleaded with my curiosity not to get the best of me, but I rarely listened to myself and turned. There, amongst the now broken Precious Moments figurines, vases, and other highly breakable (now broken) things stood a dazed couple of guilty dancers. I sighed heavily, maybe if I ran now I avoid getting t mixed up in this.

Why would I want to run? Besides the fact that they broke half the things in the section, were being thoroughly embarrassed, and probably had glass fragments in the most uncomfortable places? Because they were standing next to a table with a huge sign that read, 'You break it, you buy it.'

"This isn't good," I muttered, looking for an escape route. But Daisy-Mae and Blushing Bobby looked over at me.

"What are we goin' ta do?" Daisy-Mae whined, grabbing onto her fellow criminal's shirt sleeve.

"Don't worry, and don't tell Scott-" He looked at me at this point, "I've got it covered." Fishing in his back pocket to retrieve his wallet, he pulled out a gold credit card. I had gotten closer to the guilty party, enough to realize that the name wasn't the same as the person holding the card.

* * *

We made one quick stop at a gas station, I picked up an item, and we were headed back to the mansion. None of the three who was there during the mass murder of porcelain figures said a word to the Cookie monster. As they began to unload the vehicle, I used the excuse I had to go to the bathroom once more, and with my new comforter in hand ran toward the kitchen.

Thankfully, there was only Sam doing a crossword puzzle or something when I got there. After a quick question and his reply, I simply said thanks and unzipped my comforter bag, stuffed my contraband inside the material and made my way out of the kitchen. Sam was laughing as I left.

I thought once I got past the staircase, I would be safe from anyone finding my secret. I only passed Mrs. Jean on the way up who looked at my funny then smiled and shook her head. I gave her a puzzled look, well; I gave her back a puzzled look and continued my beeline to my room. Just as I was coming to my room, Cookie Monster was coming out.

"I think that's all your things," he said curtly, before letting me into my room. I replied with a "Thanks" in a singsong voice watching him leave, but in mid-stride he stopped, turned and stuck out his hand.

Quizzically I looked at the hand, then his face and then back at his hand.

"I know you have them," he stated.

I started to sweat because I started to get nervous. There was no _way_ he could know...absolutely no way! "Have them?"

"Let me see your comforter," Mr. Summers commanded, and was rewarded with my comforter and a glare, which only got more lethal as he unzipped the back and retrieved my contraband. He took my pack of chocolate chip cookies! _Again_!

"Thank you." The evil _evil _man then gave back my bag and walked down the hall, hitting the package of beloved cookies against his hands, which were behind his back. And Bobby-meanie and Dr. Hank said he didn't have a sense of humor.

This man was morbid but I smiled like the Cheshire cat as I shut the door. Amongst my things, there was a set of sheets. Just like the comforter, there was a package of Oreo cookies smothered within their folds.

I decided to make my bed first and after that was accomplished I sat on my crisp, clean sheets. Pulling my cookies out and I was just about to start munching when there was a knock on my door.

"Come in," I acknowledged, looking around for a hiding place for my beloved, yet endangered sweets.

Wouldn't you know who walked through the door, straight up to the bed, sighed, and fished out the _other _package of cookies from under my pillows? Yup, Cookie Hunter Summers.

"Nice try," he said with a half smile, leaving the door half-open as he left. I jumped to my feet, swung the door open and glared down the hall.

"Are you part _dog _or something?" I yelled which got Cookie Hunter's attention enough for him to turn, smile, and say: "I have a telepath for a wife, and you think too loud, despite not talking much."

Mrs. Jean was in on this! It's a conspiracy I tell you!


	6. Mansion Population Control

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 006_**

* * *

I should have listened when Dr. Hank said my transformation (mutation) would start coming on stronger. Maybe I could have prevented this.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you what fun thing they decided to put Daisy-Mae and me through the weekend before starting our new school. As if the uniforms weren't bad enough, they wanted to make sure we went speckled like a couple of Dalmatians for kicks. Just to add to this sick adventure, they got us out of bed around five in the morning, Saturday morning. Anything before noon on this day does not exist in my time frame.

I opened the door, looked like half a mummy having a bad hair day and stared at the person on the other side. "Whaa?"

"Come on petite, we goin' to show you a good time." This was the guy from the kitchen about a week and a half or so ago. He smiled and threw something through the door and told me to put it on. Then, in a dramatic flair, turned and strutted (yes, _strutted_) down the hall.

Lights don't exist on Saturday mornings either. I just guessed at the clothes, which he wanted me to put on and stumbled out the door. I bumped into Daisy on the way to the stairs, what she was wearing was a real eye opener.

A gold and blue spandex uniform!

I burst out laughing, "What are you wearing!" My sides were starting to hurt from laughing so hard. Spandex! And the girl was not thin, she had about twenty extra pounds, but with her personality I doubted anyone noticed.

"The same thing you are."

That shut me up. I looked in a nearby mirror (it's the female wing, we have them all over the place) and would have liked to have passed out. She was right! I was an identical goofy get-up as she was. My jaw dropped and as I was just about to make a break for my room but before I could Miss Rogue grabbed my arm

"This way, sugah." I whined, not only was I stuck in this suit; I was being dragged by someone who actually made it look good! Not fair! But this, dear people, is not the half of it.

I sort of forgot about the suit when my escort dragged the other victim and me to the subbasement areas. You know the part that is for staff only? I had been down here for short trips to have Dr. Hank check up on me, but never more than thirty minutes, and never past the Medical labs.

"Oh cool! Coolcoolcool!" Daisy Mae chirped, adding a little bounce to her already cheery attitude. I don't know how she did it but she was always on a constant high. Who is so happy about being woken up on a Saturday and made to wear such ridiculous clothing? I wasn't but I didn't say anything (on the outside).

"Here they are." Miss Rogue drawled out, depositing me in the front of a little group. Daisy stopped her bouncing long enough to stand beside me. I rubbed my eyes for good measure, and then took another glance at the people in front of me.

Yup. There were those scantily clad and those that weren't but all of them were in spandex. Mr. Cookie Nazi was in spandex. I looked at him and then looked at my own stupid suit and wanted to be sick. They were almost identical. Gross (sorry, but I still haven't forgiven him for what he's done!). Not to mention Bobby-meanie was wearing a blue Speedo's type suit, as was Dr. Hank, this was scarring me.

"Welcome to the Danger Room children," Miss Munroe said politely, pressing a key on a keypad, causing these two massive doors to slide open. We were shooed in and I figured my jaw might as well take permanent residence on the floor for all the time it was spending there.

_Wow_. This place was _huge_.

"Wow! It's so big! And shiny!" was Daisy-Mae's reaction. I can't believe she's fifteen. "What's this place called again?"

"The _Danger_ room," Hairy (the short one) man replied, smirking.

"Or in this case, Mansion Population control."

"_What_?" but it was too late. The doors slammed shut, locking us in and leaving me with a not so good feeling inside. The fact that almost the entire group had smirks on their faces before the doors closed only sprinkled anxiety on my tightening stomach.

"I don't like this."

"Oh come on, it's a big shiny room. What harm can it do?" Daisy, ever the optimistic (and naïve, incredibly naïve—_stupidly_ naïve), questioned me with an amused smile. About point two seconds later that big shiny room had some _big_ shinny guns. And everyone knows what comes out of big shiny guns right?

_Bammm!_

Daisy and I jumped about three feet in the air and five feet back when a golden laser hit right by our feet. If I wasn't already falling out of my skin, I think I would have jumped out of that as well.

"Are they trying to kill us?" I yelped as another laser struck too close and caused me and my other tortured friend to jump again. This blast landed us right against the heavy doors.

"This, children, is the X-Men's training room also referred to as the Danger Room." The voice of God...okay, not really, but at this point and as high on fear as I was it might've well have been. It was Professor Xavier, and two seconds later, another laser gun appeared from the left, opposite of the one that was already there.

"Ack!" I screeched, running from the doors one way, while Daisy-Mae took off the other direction. I bet she didn't think the 'big shiny room' was so neat now. I didn't. I have said over and over physical activities aren't my forte and proved it by being winded after running for less than a minute at top speed away from the golden shots.

"Why are ya doin' this!" Daisy cried from the other side of the room, having an equally as troublesome time preventing herself from getting burnt to a crisp. I think that's what they'd do, that or I really had to stop watching the Sci-Fi channel.

"This is only the beginning." I knew that voice. Mr. Summers. "We use this room and advanced technology to create real life situations you might find in the field."

Personally, I don't think big shiny guns are such 'advanced technology' but it is good to get an out-of-shape girl on the run.

"We get it already!" I screamed, finally breaking my silence barrier. "Stop it!"

"Please!" Daisy-Mae added, starting to run in my direction. Didn't she notice the grass was _not_ greener over here?

"This is a simple exercise, destroy the cannons."

Oh, yeah, that would be easy. Daisy-Mae was a 'healer' or something and I -what the heck was I supposed to do? _Bleed_ on the stupid things until they rusted? Oh kay, give me about three years and that _might_ work.

"Come on, kids. It isn't hard." That was Dr. Hank. "Even Bobby got this right the first time."

"_Hey_!" was the sharp protest I heard before the intercom was turned off again.

"Can you do something about it?" Daisy, who was now right beside me, pleaded.

"Not unless you think I can gross those things out," I panted, and then fell back as a shot got too close. "_Ow_!"

"Are you okay?" D-M asked, kneeling by my side it was a caring, but a really _stupid_ thing to do. Both cannons turned on us. We seemed to notice this at the same time, grabbed each other, and screamed. While she might have been doing this as a friendly gesture I was, quite frankly, used her as a shield against the cannons.

Then they fired.

* * *

"Ow," I muttered again, having woken up with a throbbing headache. It took a second but my memories came back to me. Why wasn't I a crispy Kerry? If I remembered correctly, I should have been singing with the angels, instead I was lying in the Med. Lab with a killer headache.

"You've come back." Dr. Hank, he was in on the frying. Why did he sound so thankful I was okay, weren't they trying to kill us? I guess he guessed what I was thinking through the questioning _glare_ I was giving him. "Oh, don't give me that look. It wasn't that bad."

I crossed my arms, yelped, uncrossed them and looked down at my exposed skin. Well, it turns out I _was_ a crispy Kerry.

"What happened?"

"You got caught in the cross beams of the cannons, and although by themselves they are just heated to around 70 degrees, together..."

140 _degrees_! I would be ashes by now! Or should be!

"Thankfully, we got them turned off in time before they collided fully. And thanks to Daisy's power, we were able to get you two out almost unscathed."

I know this man wore glasses but was he to blind to notice that my skin was roasted red?

Well, all that you could see-all that was left-well, awe heck you get the picture. Some time passed and Dr. Hank went into his ritual check up, taking my bandages off and cleaning the dead skin away-but I don't want to go into the gruesome details.

He let out an "Hmm," which in doctor terms never meant anything good.

"What? What 'hmm'?" I asked, starting to feel the pains of my back coming on. I'd never had an attack in front of anyone but let me say, it hurt to the point of passing out.

"It seems as if several of the swelling marks have moved to your shoulder blades, and are collecting in a pattern."

"So?" I grunted, trying to keep my voice normal as possible. "What's that mean?"

"It means whatever your mutation is going to be, it's going to appear soon."

Oh friggin' great. "Didja talk to that person, about the wings I mean?"

He touched my sore back with gentleness that still caused me to tense up. Tensing is the last thing one should do to a muscle that hurts enough as it is.

"Yes and no." Got to love those precise answers. "I have yet to discuss the matter of your mutation with him, I'll bring it up next time he comes to visit-which should be in about three days from now."

"Great." I clamped my eyes tightly. Letting hot white pain flash before my eyes, drawing tears to them. Man, how I wished I could just pass out or start drinking Morphine or something to make the pain go away. Dr. Hank apparently caught on to my brave front.

"Kerry, does it hurt?"

I nodded, making headache come on stronger.

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

Who cares! Just give me the drugs! "Didn't want-t-t-to be a b-b-b-bother."

Then came the drugs, okay, and then came a lecture while he was giving me the drugs, but the bliss of blackness shortly followed.

* * *

I shouldn't have gone to school that week. I really should have never had left my room Monday morning. But I did, after all I had an image inducer right? So anything freaky about my appearance would be hidden behind smoke and mirrors right? Right...up to a point.

I was up early on Monday morning, getting ready for my first day of my new school. And yes, I had that ugly uniform on. I figured it was the price to pay for sweets-which Mr. Sniffs-Cookies-Out-Summers couldn't take away from me and at that moment in time I was waging a war.

I was fighting the battle of the una-brow. It was a painful fight and after ten minutes, it seemed as though I would win and my eyebrows would be divided. Yes! This battle was taking place in the large bathroom across the hall from my room; it was empty as everyone else was sleeping in. I really didn't like them at this point. But anyway, back to the brow.

Plucking one eyebrow after another, I seemed to be doing okay, until you get that one stubborn one. The one that seems attached to your skin with superglue or something. The one that is always the longest, blackest of all the eyebrows that are trying to bridge a gap over your nose.

Everything was going fine, until that eyebrow hair—but I got it off, along with the skin it was stuck too. Disgusting right? Well, it was to me. I stared at it with wide eyes as if I had just pulled gold off my face and was holding it with my tweezers.

"Oh man," I whimpered, then looked up at my reflection, sure enough there was a piece of milky gray skin showing through. I felt my nonexistent breakfast lurch up my throat.

Dropping the tweezers into the sink, I carefully and with morbid curiosity, I tugged at the edges of the skin that was left. The skin came off like it was only sunburned. Tears began to fill my eyes as the flakes fluttered and chunks plopped down into the sink.

"Ennh," I cried, dropped to my knees as my hands grasped the sides of the sink. I had to concentrate on breathing at that point. I couldn't think about my face, with the grayish patches showing through or how I was going to explain this at the new school or anything like that. Isn't it funny when I tried not think about something was the time I can only think of those things?

I don't know how long I stayed in the bathroom, shaking and breathing shallowly but at some point Miss Rogue staggered in complaining about something or another. Then she spotted me and about wet her pants.

"Sugah, what's wrong?" My face was turned with two gloved hands on either side of my face. I could smell the blood from where the skin was removed. I couldn't feel it; I was doped up pretty badly on the pain killers Dr. Hank had been giving me. She didn't need me to answer as I touched my face with my own hands and tears promptly started to fall harder.

Needless to say, I got out of going to school that day but this wouldn't even be the half of it.


	7. Tip of the Ice burg

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 007**_

* * *

One day, that's all they allowed me. One day of recovery from the shock and horror that my face was now falling apart. Where was the justice? I guess this time it was in the form of a small metallic device, the image inducer.

And talk about a lecture to get the silly thing! Professor Xavier went on and on about how it wasn't a toy. Mr. Got Cookies? said not to switch my image once I had gotten used to one and also not to make myself look like a supermodel or anything silly like that. Then Dr. Hank lectured me about how not to use it to get into the boy's locker room like someone else had done to get into the ladies' dressing rooms.

Yup, Bobby done did that deed.

This was all within the first day that my face fell apart and when Daisy-Mae came home she was practically on cloud 10 (the girl is _always_ on cloud 9, therefore I elevated her). Talking about all the cute guys there were, how everyone seemed really nice, and yadda yadda yadda. I did block her out, but that's only because she came into my room and I didn't want to leave her in there without supervision.

"It was _so_ cool." D-M went on, "There's this guy who can balance seven Western Civilization books on his head and this girl who had _two_ piercing in her tongue, and..."

Sounded like my old school. The more she talked the more depressed I got. I never thought I'd actually miss those dorks at Acola High, after all they were all just as dull as they could be. I missed them.

I missed my family. I hadn't let myself think about my mom or sister since the night she kicked me out. I kept telling myself that she'd call; I'd left my number several times but hadn't heard from her. My sis's e-mail account must have changed because she only answered one e-mail and I never heard from her again.

But my mom loved me. She wouldn't forget me just because of this...would she? Did she?

"_Oh_! And there's this _hunk_." That brought me out of my stupor and caught my attention. "He's name is Kenney, girl, he looks _so _good!" D-M started to fan herself for effect. "He is _hot_."

I just smiled half-heartedly; I couldn't really trust this girl's opinion of 'hot.' At least not after hearing her say Bobby-meanie fell into that category.

"What about lunch?"

"What about it?" She inquired, popping her grape flavored gum.

"How was it?" Did they serve sweets! Work with my train of thought!

"Oh it was okay. Nothing too great, soy burgers -ick- and fries, ya know the regular stuff."

I really didn't want to sound like a pig or a chocoholic or anything but when I've been deprived, I just want to know: "Do they serve cookies, sweets, or anything like that?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. We had some kind of cake that either fell apart when you touched it with your fork or it like, did this gooey number and was more like pudding. They even have a 'coke break' at the end of lunch hour that is _so_ neat, 'cause you can buy all sorts of real sugary treats there."

_Ding Ding_! We have a winner! My mouth was practically watering at the knowledge that I would be reunited with the food substances that could give me cavities and about a hundred extra pounds.

* * *

"Kerry, rise and shine!" Came that _annoyingly_ cheerful voice. I grumbled, glanced at my clock, and threw my Oreo comforter over my head. "Aw, no no, you gotta go to school sometime."

"I'm dead," I replied, in that hoarse voice that indicates you've been sleeping or crying. I was asleep and would have stayed in that state until at least noon if my covers hadn't been ripped off of me. Even on the covers with the cookies get taken from me!

"Ah don't think so, girl. Time to get up," Miss Rogue insisted.

I curled into a tight ball, trying to preserve what heat there was left. I kept forgetting that this Mississippi woman is stronger than an elephant and just hauled me out of bed and to my feet without batting an eye.

"But it's only six!" I muttered in defense, my head drooping foreword.

"Just enough time for you to get ready and get to school."

The optimism must be in the coffee. I don't drink coffee; therefore I don't have optimism or caffeine in me to be a morning person. She left the room, but not without flicking on the lights which effectively blinded me.

"_Ack_!" I protested and fell back on to my bed. I would have wrapped myself in my comforter but I had been woken up enough times by these people that they take the comforter with them until I am dressed.

I was half way back to sleep when I heard from the hall, "And if Ah catch you sleepin' when Ah come back, you'll get an ice bath."

_That_ was an eye opener.

* * *

"That's the third time you yawned in under five minutes, Ker, when didja get to sleep?"

How the heck was I supposed to know? I would have been asleep at that time. "Which time?"

"Rough night?" Dr. Hank asked from his perch on the counter. I gazed over at him and nodded my head. "Anything to do with the pain attacks?"

Yes. "No, just nervous about starting a new school," I paused and then corrected myself, "_Another_ new school." And about being stuck in this goofy uniform, and about my face falling off, and about how Mr. Summers was planning to prevent me from getting sweets. I just knew he had something up his sleeve.

"Even with the image inducer you look like Gambit after a keg party."

I gave Bobby-meanie the 'evil eye.'

"At least Gambit can hold his liquor, non?"

"Remember that time at Harry's when they had that karaoke machine..." as interesting as a Bobby-bashing story would have been, wouldn't you know that ole Mac Summers popped his head in the kitchen at that time to tell me and D-M to get a move on.

"_He's_ driving us?" I asked once we got out of the kitchen that was becoming rowdier by the minute.

"Oh yeah," she answered in a normal tone, but in a lower one she added, "And he drives like a granny."

_Daisy-Mae _talking _bad_ about someone? Quick! Grab a news paper; I have to see if Satan now lived in an igloo!

The girl was right. During our trip to NYC, I had been too busy taking in the scenery and trying to half-heartedly pay attention to Daisy to notice, but the man drove the speed limit. This just added to his list of bad habits, what was I going to find out next? That he _liked_ the Three Stooges?

By the time we pulled up to this huge school, 45 minutes later, I was ready to get out of the car and start sniffing out the sweets. Daisy-Mae literally bounced out of the vehicle and ran part way to the steps before turning around and waiting for me. I was half way out of the car when Mr. Cookie-Nazi stopped me and handed me a brown paper sack.

"What's this?" I asked, peering in the bag. It looked like lunch, but it just couldn't be.

"It's your lunch," he said without a hint of humor.

"But I thought I was going to eat here? Daisy does."

"And let you ruin all the hard work? No ma'am, you get sack lunches." I swear this guy had _some_ sort of telepathy, before I could ask why D-M didn't get stuck with a third grader's lunch he added, "Daisy is not on your diet."

Let me kill him! _Never_ in a man's life should they tell a girl that she needs to go on a diet. _And_ without her consent! He must die!

I don't care about witnesses at least in prison they'd give me sweets! Before I could retort and plainly point out that Daisy-Mae _should_ be the one on a diet, the girl came and dragged me away from the car. If I didn't know better, I could have _sworn_ I saw that evil Mr. Ha-ha-and-you-thought-you-were-going-to-get-a-cookie Summers _smirk_.

"That was first bell, you don't want make a bad impression do you?" Daisy chirped, dragging me into the large building. I was still glaring at the car as it sped away, oh sure _now_ he finds his gas pedal!

At least I would be able to get a lunch by charging it to an account.

* * *

I was still steaming about the whole morning ordeal from being insulted to having my one bonus about this school ripped away from me that I didn't notice the itching on my back had returned. It was in Political Thought, when I began to consider that if I had a female judge and pushed for a female jury, after I told them what Mr. You-too-fat Summers did to me, I'd be let off the hook. I was in my third hour (English) before I lurched forward and grabbed my left shoulder—the pain was coming on strong. Now was not the time for this to happen!

"Is there something wrong, Miss D'Mon?" The snobby teacher, Miss Alfalter asked, tapping the podium with the end of her number 2 pencil. I closed my eyes and felt a ripping sensation down both of my shoulder blades. _Please_ make it stop! It hurt!

"_Gross_!" I heard someone cry and then a desk scrapping the floor as the person pushed away from me.

"Haven't you heard of a pad?" someone questioned, as they too moved away from me. I started to cry. My image inducer covered my body, but once I felt the blood start to soak my shirt and skirt I knew that they saw it. The smell of blood filled my nostrils, that iron-like smell that I have come so accustomed to since I joined up with these people. My bandages that brought me protection from this embarrassment began to tighten, making it hard for me to breathe.

"Get the nurse!" The teacher cried out, suddenly by my side, grabbing my shoulders, helping me out of my seat and from the room. "Is there someone you want me to call?" she inquired once we were out of the room.

My head was swimming by this time and I felt my stomach lurch with every drip-drop I heard. I was going to pass out, after doing it so often I now knew the symptoms by heart.

"Dr. Mc-c-c-c-Coy," and with that, I promptly passed out, ending up a dead weight on my petite teacher.

* * *

"She's in here," I heard the worried voice say; I shivered and curled tighter into a ball. I lay on the ground wrapped in a blanket, they'd try to lay me down on the cot but I let loose a scream that had the nurse and my new English teacher crying with sympathy.

"Thank you." It was Dr. Hank, no matter how much in pain I was (and believe you me, I _was_), I knew that voice. The supplier of my drugs! I saw pair of polished shoes walk into the room; I was too weak, too busy shivering, and too much in pain to look up. I felt a hand touch my forehead and then muttered something under their breath.

"Kerry, can you hear me?"

"Uhn..." That was all I could manage for a yes.

"Ma'am!" He called. I flinched, a migraine was already in creation and I did _not_ need him screaming. I didn't need the click-clicks of the secretary's shoes answering his scream either.

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you let me check her out? I need to get her home as quickly as possible."

Home.

It sounds funny. It sounds like a lie.

"Yes sir! I'll fill out everything," then in a softer tone, "Just make sure she's okay."

"She'll be fine." Dr. Hank tried to reassure the woman.

Yeah, well, me being 'fine' was all in _his_ opinion.

"Kerry, I'm going to get you to the mansion, okay?" I didn't reply this time. I was lost somewhere between sleep and awake-actually passing out and awake. "I'm picking you up." He warned me and a second later I heard him grunt. I was, after all, lead weight. Briefly, in my incoherent brain, I wondered if maybe Mr. Summers was right about that diet.

By some miracle, I woke up, this time in the van headed at what seemed like break neck speeds to the mansion (I hoped). After seeing I was hooked up to an IV and another thing (I guess was my much-loved painkillers) I no longer wondered why I was suddenly feeling a bit better.

"Do you think we need to stop and see Cecilia? Do you think she'll be okay all the way to the mansion?" I didn't recognize that voice, I just couldn't place it at that moment. One bad side effect about my loved drugs, they leave your brain loopy and your mouth loose.

"No, I think we can get her to the mansion, there's no need to cause a ruckus at Dr. Reyes's clinic." That voice, the voice of an _angel_, Dr. Hank. Praise you man!

"Uhn," I tried to get my mouth to actually form a word, but that sound was all that came out. This was okay, because I soon felt a furry hand on my forehead. I was lying on my side, facing the seat rather than the other passengers. I guess he figured out about my slight back discomfort in the nurse's office.

"Welcome back, Kerry. You gave us quite a scare."

"Uhn," it was amazing all the words that one syllable grunt was turning into.

I heard the other voice laugh, "Guess she's okay. Is this the kid you were talking about, Hank?"

Deep voice. Nice voice. Man, my brain was really starting to not function. I could only get tiny words out of my mind and it annoyingly clung to any idea, which happened to be Mr. Told-you-you-needed-a-diet-Summers doing a funny little dance in the middle of a cookie.

"Yes, but it seems pointless to ask you about it now." Hank laughed lightly at some kind of joke. "But I do have a question, when you got your extra appendages, did it hurt?"

"Hank, think. You have two wings grow out of your back in the span of _one_ night and tell me if you think it would hurt."

Oh good gravy, if this was only the beginning then forget killing Summers, kill me! Kill me!

"Hmm, hers seems to be taking longer to come in though."

"Everyone's different-" and hello darkness, this is Kerry, Kerry this is blackness may you intermingle. In other words, I zapped out again.


	8. Birth of Mutation

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 008**_

* * *

My mother (the one who wasn't talking to me right?) once told me about how much it hurt women to give birth to their children. She said there was the painful, insane, and ultimately inhumane way of going about it and then there was the way God intended—strapped to a table and numb from the neck down. Actually, I think I heard that last part from a rerun of Golden Girls, but who knows?

And although I've never given birth, heck, I never did anything to even get me to that possibility; I could relate my pain to it. The one major difference I would have to say is that instead of 'down there' it was coming out through my back- twins at the same time. It had started at school and continued to increase to the point of madness.

I was literally held down on the table when they took the IVs out of me (my beloved pain killers were gone! Just like the cookies!) and I was screaming my head off as they did this. Dr. Hank would later to explain that if they would have continued to give me medication there was a high possibility that I would have O. . Trust me, if I had a choice about whatever would have happened next or ODing, I would have chosen to OD.

Laying in the Medical lab, curled up in a tiny ball (as tiny as a 5'6.5'' girl can get at least) muttering incoherent words, and when I wasn't doing that, I was screaming in pain or passed out from screaming. This was not a fun time.

Just to illustrate how it was for me, let me tell you what kind of pain it was. I felt these-things were moving, pushing, and splitting my skin on my back. Blood seeped into the sheets, and soon covered a good portion of the bed. I think they changed the sheets when I was knocked out, because I would always wake up to clean sheets and pass out to red ones.

"Is she goin' to die?" I heard after the hours flew (ha-ha) by. I guessed it was sometime after three if D-M was home. But, boy, I didn't want her optimistic happy self anywhere near me. I was in pain, I didn't have morphine, and I was cookie deprived, I would have plainly ripped her head off.

"No, she's going to be fine, she's just in a lot of pain right now," Came Dr. Hank's voice. I wished I could open my clamped, tear-filled eyes long enough to glare at him. Did I mention I am _not_ a pleasant person when I fell like I'm being ripped in two?

"Is there anything that Ah can do?" The bumpkin's accent really came out, or maybe it was just because it was so annoying to me (anything was) that I picked up on it.

"No, Kerry has to get through this herself." I did not like that answer. I had to get through this _by myself_. I'll get through depression by myself; I'll get over a boyfriend by myself, for this, this I wanted drugs for! Forget getting through it by myself. Painkillers or a whopping big mallet to knock me out until it was over. _Anything_ at this point would be better than the ripping sensation of my back and bones.

It was later, I mean like close to ten (by the annoyingly cheerful green digital clock they put by my bed) when I felt it burst. No, _not_ my bladder, but my back. Yes, disgusting to hear about it, but try living through it. I think I let a scream go that curled every body's hair in a five mile radius.

The fluid sacks (I didn't even know I _had_ those) of blood had finally burst and made the floor slick with their nasty juices. From behind them came the mutation I had unhappily anticipated for almost a month. The tops of two bony new attachments to my body exposed themselves to the air.

My screech must have caught _someone's_ attention, because while I was busy going insane with the throbbing hot white pain of having 'birthed' these things I felt hands on my face. I only heard my racing heart beat, pumping blood throughout my worn and torn body. My eyes were wide as possible, hands clapped over my ears as I tried _so_ hard to block out the sound of the sickening slaps coming from behind me.

/_Kerry, calm down_, / a voice whispered gently.

Bull crap! How the heck was I supposed to settle down when I was dying on the friggin' bed! I was in _pain_. I _hurt_. I was being torn in _two_. I had these _things_ coming from my body where there wasn't supposed to be _anything_. And I was told to _calm down!_

/_Relax; I can't help you unless you relax_. / The voice was in my brain, but at that point I really didn't care.

"They're jammed; we'll have to surgically remove the rest. The pain killers must still be relaxing her muscles..." I shuddered and let loose a scream that a dying cat would have been jealous of.

The only way _he c_ould help me was to kill me. I didn't want to live like this! Just when I was about to let loose another high pitched protest, the pain went away. Just, poof. All gone.

I didn't really want to die! I take it back!

/_You're not dead_/ came that same voice, this time with clarity.

There was no throbbing or searing pain giving static to the voice now. My eyes, which I must have closed, opened to a stormy landscape. It was like a black sanded desert, with a rolling thunderstorm in the distance, yet all around.

/_Where-what the heck happened_/ I questioned, hoping the 'voice' would not be my Siamese twin that I just gave birth to out of my back. I told you, I thought I was ripped in two and a world with two Kerry D'mons would be a very scary place. Especially for Bobby-meanie and Mr. Cookie hog.

/_We're in your mind_/ the voice answered.

That would explain why it was so creepy.

/_We?_/

/_Get up, I'm right behind you._ / Sure enough, after I did what the 'voice' told me to, I saw him. Professor Xavier standing there in his normal 'casual' clothes (white button down shirt with green colored pants, ick).

/_What happened_/

/_I took you out of your misery,_/ he stated simply, observing the landscape with his brow knitted into one. You know the thing I was fighting in the bathroom on Monday?

/_I thought you said I wasn't dead_./

Professor gave me a funny stare, /_You're not. Right now Dr. McCoy and Dr. Reyes are performing surgery on you. _/

_Oh_ heck! No way! If I wasn't a figment of my imagination, I think I would have lost my mind's self lunch (I just confused myself). Surgery! Didn't they have to get my consent or something first?

/_You've lost a lot of blood and because of the sedatives you were not able to push the bone and skin part of your wings out from where they were under your skin._ /

If he was here to cheer me up, I'd rather that Dr. Kevorkian-or whoever he was. Mary Poppins this guy wasn't...

* * *

"She's coming through."

Yeah I was, and none too soon. I think if I was to stay in Professor's 'help' much longer, I would have hurt my mental self. I like the guy, I mean; he did take me in and was giving me all the essentials, but talk about feeling awkward. Standing in my brain talking to this guy, it wasn't like I could just walk out of the room.

"Kerry, can you hear me?"

Yes, though why they sounded like they were under water I didn't understand.

"We just took out the frame work of your wings," Translation: Congratulations! Twins! or 'You are now an official freak! Smile for the camera!' They hooked me back up to the medication that was for sure. My thoughts were still scattered, I couldn't feel anything below my neck, and I felt a goofy smile on my face.

This dark blob in white then came into focus; it was a pretty lady in a white coat. She flashed a light in my eyes, I moaned, she checked my ears, and I felt the fluid start to build up in them. But you know what? I couldn't really _feel_ anything. Life was good.

* * *

"So how long is she going to be down here, Hank?" I came to at the nice voice.

"Hmm, probably until the stitches are taken out."

"And that would be?"

"Three days," He paused, "Did the Charles talk to you about-"

I interrupted when I croaked out, "Fooo..." which was supposed to mean 'Please, I'm starving, _feed me_!' but it didn't.

"Well, welcome back," Came the nice voice, I decided to open my eyes. I opened my eyes to wings and a blue face. A very blue face and very white and feathery wings.

I thought Professor said I didn't die!

"How are you feeling?"

"No...fee..." This translated into that I didn't feel a thing below my neck still. But I didn't know if you were supposed to _feel_ any discomfort when you were dead anyway. But after he put his furry hand on my forehead before Dr. Hank sighed and gave me a big fangy smile I don't think I was as dead as I originally thought.

"That's good. We were starting to worry if perhaps the over use of pain killers had put you into a catatonic state."

I wanted to cry, Dr. Hank was getting back into those 'big' words again, and I was sleepy, confused, hungry, and severely doped up-don't use big words on a person like this.

"Hello Kerry," came the winged one's voice. This scratched the idea that he was the angel of death come to take me away, since I recognized the voice from the car ride here. Of course, even with wings and blue skin, I'd gladly follow him into eternity; he would definitely make a good angel of death. All the women would die just to meet him then all that would be left on earth were males and the human species would die out.

Hey, I'm pretty coherent for not being coherent.

…I guess that just proved I was still whacky.

"Oh my stars!" Oh goodness, _now_ what? Dr. Hank didn't just bust out in exclamation...I don't think...I really need not to spend so much time in my room.

"What?" the other blue, though less hairy, man asked.

"Where are my manners? Kerry D'mon, I would like to humbly present you with the other winged student of Professor Xavier, Angel."

Well, at least his codename made sense (sorry I'm still trying to figure out that whole 'Hi, I'm Phoenix,' thing). I looked up from where my face was squashed into the pillow and moved my eye around lazily, it was my own form of a wave.

"Hello Kerry, it seems as though you and I will have something in common," Angel stated, with a _very_ pretty smile. I did not know guys could be pretty-much less their smiles. Then what he actually said hit me.

"Com'n?"

"These," he said taping a feathery appendage over his left shoulder. These people must spend a lot of time talking to drugged patients to know what I was saying. I wasn't even too sure what I was saying from time to time.

"Foo," I protested again, my eyelids becoming heavy, something about the way there was fuzzy blackness around my vision told me I wouldn't even be awake long enough to have any food. I was right.

* * *

"Are you well enough to sit up?" Dr. Hank asked two days and off the pain meds later.

"Yeah," I replied, after spending two (probably more) days on my stomach, sniffing the same pillow I was ready to change positions (do not ask about my bathroom needs, _that_ is a whole different embarrassment).

"Great!" He said, putting his large hands around my waist, and was lifted, and then with one arm under my stomach, he placed me in a sitting position. "Don't lean back," he instructed in the 'doctor' tone, "You're not used to the extra weight, and you'd probably get hurt."

After stacking about a million pillows for me to lean on, he quickly left the room promising me what I truly desired the most, food. That crap they stick down your throat tastes like it wasn't fit for a dog. _Ick_. _Price is Right_ was on, and I watched it with some interest, muttering at the people who did the really annoying thing of bidding only $1 more than the person beside them. Hadn't they any compassion?

"Here we are!" That _beautiful, wonderful_ Doctor said as he placed a TV tray right in front of me loaded with all kinds of _healthy_ stuff. I didn't mind the meat and some of the side dishes, but honestly, peas?

"I thought you said food," I weakly exclaimed, I picked up a spoon full of the little green snot balls and held it up to him, "This isn't food."

"I see," Dr. Hank then sighed dramatically. "But, my dear, if you do not eat what you claim is uneatable, then I will not be able to allow you to have this." And from his white coat came a napkin; from the napkin came the love of my hour-a chocolate-chocolate chip cookie that seemed to be melting in his touch.

"H-how?" Didn't Mr. Cookie-Rebel-Summers swipe all the good food? How on earth did this even _more_ beautiful wonderful doctor get a _cookie_?

"Rogue just finished baking this delightful little cavity causing morsel," He paused, eyeballed me, "But, if you don't want it..."

"I do!" With that I held my breath and began to eat those nasty little peas, hey, always darkest before the dawn right? When I was finished, I wiped my mouth (my upper arms were sore, so it was more or less me aiming my head at the napkin which was at lap level) and smiled at the doctor.

He went to place the long sought after morsel in my hand, it was so close I could almost feel the gooeyness melting on my fingertips, coating them with chocolate. It was so close I could still feel the heat from the oven where it was transformed into this eatable delight when—_he appeared_ out of nowhere and _took_ it _again_.

"I don't think so," _Scott_ said (he has lost _all_ respect with me now!) as he grabbed the innocent victim from Dr. Hank's hand and threw it away, _right in front of me!_ "Hank, you should know better-"

I could do nothing but stare at the trashcan, being jealous of what it held inside it that I did not. I heard _Scott_ and Dr. Hank laughing about some odd thing, yet I could not listen, I was trying to remember every detail of the smell and how gooey it seemed to be. I could only imagine how great it would have been.

"I was so close," I whispered, but even though it was barely audible, they heard.

"You say something Kerry?" Came _that_ man's audacious question.

"H-how could you do that?" I squeaked. "It was only one."

"Sugar won't help you recover any faster, Kerry. Right, Hank?"

"Affirmative."

Of course it wouldn't help _them_ heal any faster, they were _male_ after all. Chocolate is like the _ultimate_ medicine for the female population. The answer to everything is found by sharing a gallon of ice cream with Little Debbie and Hershey's syrup. And cheesecake, everything is answered with cheesecake. If the world was run by all women, all they would have to do to keep the peace is send each other sweets! And I'm sick! Who takes sugar from a sick person? It was supposed to make me feel better.

"I ate snot for that," I muttered, caught somewhere between being angry and crying.

"I'm-going to not respond to or ask about that." _That_ cookie monster man said right before this beeper noise went off. He checked the face of the little beeper, sighed and said his farewells-well at least to Dr. Hank.

"Is it everyone or just with meeee_eeee_!" My exclamation became a screech as I completely forgot Dr. Hank's warning about leaning back. As soon as I leaned back to shout closer to the door way, I lost my balance, with these 'wings' on my back and I not only fell on to my back, but managed to flip the whole freakin' bed on top of me.

Would there ever come a time when I would _stop_ embarrassing myself?


	9. Balancin' Act

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 009**_

* * *

There was something to be said about doctor's orders...like they should be followed.

Because I failed to realize this, I ended up in the med lab for an extra day, they (the PHD people) were afraid I tore my staples out, which I hadn't. But I had noticed that the day they let me out of the sick bay, something was missing.

Like my ability to balance and thus walk.

It was after about the third time that I fell that someone came to assist me. I refused as much as I could, but it didn't do any good. Dr. Hank had to help me to the kitchen. There was no getting me any further, partly because I was exhausted, the other part was because I was in the land of food again. This time I could raid the place without Summers on my tail (which I did not have, thank you very much). Of course any raiding would have been done on my hands and knees and the only things at that level was the kitchenware which was shiny and all, but not very good with ketchup.

"It would seem as if your equilibrium has yet to catch up with your mutation." Dr. Hank pointed out as I sat hunched over the table, panting like a dog. "I suppose I'll have to call in the experts."

That was his idea of a joke.

I think.

I hope.

* * *

"Rise and shine!" I groaned. Not again, this is like a bad deja-vu or something. Every morning after the first week here someone paraded into my room telling me to rise and shine. I'm not a stinkin' toaster. I don't 'rise' easily, nor did I ever shine.

"Come on, _petite_, Gambit got to get you ready." Hearing that Miss Rogue (who usually wakes me up because she's just next door _and_ a morning person) was not alone, my eyes popped open and I shoved the Oreo bed sheet from my eye sight. We were on the girls' wing and although Mr. You-too-sexy-for-a-sweet Summers acted as my psycho alarm clock for a while, some yelling from Miss Rogue while she was only in a towel got him to stop.

Yay, for Rogue in a bath towel!

"I'm dead." I loved this reply. I used it as frequently as I could, though it tends to have one down fall-it never worked. The comforter was ripped from my body and I was left there with the _things_ exposed and me only in my little sleep shorts and tank top.

"You're breathing, and if you're breathing, you're alive." Miss Rogue pointed out and then hauled me up and out of bed. She mustn't have gotten the news flash that I couldn't walk a straight line for nothing, heck, I can't even walk; because as soon as she put me on my feet, I fell forward very ungracefully.

"Whoa, there little one," Came the voice that was attached to the pair of arms that caught me before I fell onto my face and added to my list of embarrassing moments.

He smelt good.

"Can't even stand?" Miss Rogue asked, taking me away from Mr. Smell Good. I whimpered when she touched my sore back and then as she sighed, she hefted me up and _carried_ me down. Of course I couldn't stand! What kind of girl did she think I was falling into the arms of some strong guy that smelt incredibly _good_? Well, gee, that didn't help my case any!

Good thing I was sleeping in a sports bra, because, hey, at least I'd like to pretend to be modest! After a quick and _early_ breakfast, Gamble(?) said his thanks to Miss Rogue and helped me toddle down the hallway to the workout area. Boy, these people had no compassion for the sick or healing. As soon as you could crawl they'd throw you back into weightlifting and everything.

"Now," Mr. Smell Good started with a _totally_ knee-melting smile, "We see what de problem is wit' your walkin'."

Gee, this was simple. "I can't walk."

"Right and wrong, you can't even _stand_. Dat's why I'm here to help you get your balance back."

Like someone stole it and he was just going to break in and get it? _Right_. I doubt he ever stole anything, probably only had to ask. But anyway, Smell Good propped me against a balance beam and then walked two strides away, turned and told me to walk to him.

I sighed and honestly tried to do as he told me, but ended up on my hindquarters. At least it wasn't another belly flop. From my position on the pads, I glanced up at him, he looked back at me and that's the first time I noticed his eyes weren't normal. More like red circles in the middle of a black piece of paper. It was creepy (this coming from the girl who just became the mother of a set of 'wings' that had yet to produce any feathers).

"You goin' to sit dere all day?" Smell Good asked, leaning on the balance beam.

"I might," I muttered, but began to clamor to my feet. Once I was sort of standing upright—okay, so I was bent over-I tried once again to take a step toward his really good smelling self, but instead of going down, I tripped. Yes, klutz forgot how to maneuver her feet and pitched forward. I _'eeped'_ and was caught.

_Man,_ he smelled _good! _He held me up by my underarm, while my face was plastered against his chest. Oy vey. I'm not Jewish, but _oy vey._ My face began to burn with embarrassment, I was pretty sure black skin didn't blush, but the patches I had left of my normal skin probably looked sunburned I was so red.

_RIPP_.

"Ugh," I heard him curse as I pulled away, leaving a good portion of my face on his shirt. I looked up at him, Smell Good seemed more than disturbed about this turn of events and let me go. I fell back this time. I couldn't do anything but sit on my tush, looking at him as he looked at his now flesh speckled shirt.

"I-I'm sorry," I whispered, tears coming from my eyes. My face began to bleed where the skin had come off. Tearing my eyes away from him as he began to leave, I shivered as I felt patches suddenly flake off. I was able to wipe some of the dead skin away from my ebony colored skin like makeup on a baby doll. I must have sat there for a good five years, replaying the sound of my face sticking to his shirt, the face Smell Good made when he saw what had happened-shoot me.

"Here." I had a wash cloth dropped in my lap, and through tear stained eyes, I saw those freaky red/black eyes looking me over. "You seem fine; get up when you're ready." With that he climbed gracefully to his feet and jumped on the balance beam, looking out the window at the sunrise.

He wasn't afraid of me? He wasn't disgusted with me? _I'm_ disgusted with me, how on earth was he taking this all in stride? _And_ how could he stand there with that nasty dead part of me hanging off his shirt? After another quick glance at my 'teacher' I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt anymore. Oh, punish me.

"Aren't you," I whispered, Gamble (?) gave me his full attention; I found the floor interesting at this moment, "disgusted?"

"Yes."

Ouch.

"But it don't mean dat I need to be runnin' away from you wit' my tail tucked between my legs." Gamble then gave me a funny look complete with a smile. _Man,_ that look probably got him into _so_ much trouble. "After all, ain't we all mutants?"

"You're the only one in this room who thinks that way," I pointed out. It was the truth. I had been here for almost four weeks and I still didn't get anyone's names right (except a few). Not to mention I spent most of my time looking at the decorations in my room, and typing e-mails and such to my mom and little sister who never answered them, but I liked to pretend they at least _read_ them.

Another funny look and a slight frown, "How so?"

Shoot, I hate questions that require me to think about the answer. Even on tests I didn't like that type of question. So I did think about it. I thought about how I was introduced to this band of "heroes", how my mother rejected me, how I wasn't liked by many people here (or at least I think) or how the people I do know I'm not really close to. More like an apartment building with only one kitchen and gym that forces a person to recognize they are not alone with the wood and marble of the mansion.

"Dunno." _That_ is the kind of answer I give when I think. Pretty funny. Ha-ha.

"Can you make dat a bit clearer, I'm not big on dose technical terms."

I had to explain myself? I thought you only had to do that type of thing with the cops. But before my mouth could check with my brain, it just went off. This was going to require some major rewording later knowing how my luck has been.

"Well, uh, I -uh," Good thing I didn't come to this school because I'm a genius (which I'm not) because they wouldn't believe it now. And besides, there was no way I was going to bare my soul to a man whose name I couldn't even get right.

"You t'ink you're the weirdest creature to ever come t'rough dese doors?" His voice sounded as if it was about to turn into laughter. I didn't particularly like being called 'creature' but whatever. "You'd be wrong."

I quirked an eyebrow, grabbed the washcloth, and began the disgusting task of wiping off the old flesh to reveal the new grayish-blackish skin. The blood was already beginning to get dry up, gross-I'd hate to be the person who has to clean up my mess later.

"We've had people wit' bones stickin' out all over dem, and you've seen Hank, dere is another one whose comin' to help you wit' your balancin' dat looks more like a demon den a priest. And den dere's Warren-blue guy wit' wings?" I nodded, and he went on to list about people from different dimensions (no names this time, only descriptions). I'm sure he meant it to be relaxing, but instead my attention span was quickly breached and I was just happy that he didn't make me get up and walk again.

About five minutes later, I think he realized I wasn't paying attention to him anymore because Gamble clamed up and told me to walk to him. Drats. I was hoping he would forget!

After an uneventful hour in the gym (meaning, I didn't walk, only fell a lot) I was allowed to make my way back to the kitchen. Of course, Mr. Remy forgot for about five minutes I couldn't go anywhere and came back to help me to the dining room where I sat through everyone else's meal. Mr. Remy-Smell-Good said it was under orders to make sure I got everyone's names right.

Right.

"Pass the syrup!" Bobby-meanie shouted across the table to Mrs. Jean, who was happy to oblige-with, her mind. Dr. Hank came bouncing in and took a seat next to Bobby-meanie, then Daisy-Mae with her happy self bopped into the room singing some pop song.

"This is the first time you're down here to have breakfast with us isn't it?" D-M pointed out as she sat down next to me. Maybe there was a reason! _Scott_ was there with Mrs. Jean, hairy man (I think his name is Wolfie?), Dr. Hank, Dr. Reyes (who was complaining about Dr. Hank using his feet to eat with), Sam, Angel, Professor, D-M, me (duh), Miss Rogue, Mr. Remy, Miss Munroe, and one other person I didn't know. Okay so there was like three people I didn't know.

"Who's the new kid?" This girl asked in between popping her pink gum and shoving pancakes in her mouth. She had short black hair like me, except mine is shaggy looking and shoulder length.

"Kerry," Some one answered, I didn't know who it was 'cause everyone's mouth was open, chewing or inserting food. I sat crossed armed, leaned against the table. Thankfully I was allowed to have my image inducer on, wouldn't want anyone losing their breakfast because of my face.

"Oh'm Jewbiwee," The girl said with a mouth full of what I pretended _wasn't_ chocolate chip pancakes. I gave a small smile and 'hi' just for manners sake, and she nodded and went back to popping gum and eating. How she didn't get any of the pancake in her gum must be her mutant ability.

There was another girl who was correcting 'Jewbiwee' on her eating manners when she looked over at me with a bored expression, "Kerry, is it? I'm Monet."

"Hi," I repeated, but when I gave my small smile she stuck her nose up in the air and continued to eat. I hoped someone spit in her food. She must have been the living embodiment of the word snob; of course as I thought this she rewarded me with this 'lowly peasant' look. Don't tell me, _she_ read minds as well.

The last one kind of looked less normal than the normal people, but more normal than the strange (like me). He had his arms crossed, and his shades over his eyes. I guess he wasn't that hungry. I wouldn't want to eat with this crowd -at least Jewbiwee, who was presently sticking her tongue out at Monet. Did I mention she had all of her chewed up food on her tongue at this time?

Ick!

"Aren't they funny?" D-M gushed; laughing at the way the other two girls carried on.

"Completely."

Monet didn't seem to like my one worded comment; she turned, nose still sniffing clouds, and said: "Aren't you the one that flipped the bed in sick bay?"

I choked. How did _that_ get out? How quickly did information wiggle through the grapevine around here? Maybe I should remember that (which, later, I wish I would've)! As I was already trying to sink under the table, hoping there was a black hole or something that would suck me out of this reality, when everyone began to nod and look over in my general direction.

"We keep findin' you under beds, _petite_, and you goin' to get a bad reputation." Mr. Remy, who had been on my good list until now, remarked, getting a few to laugh and poke fun at him instead of me.

"Also the one that keeps passing out?" I wish she would stop. "And the one with the shedding skin? Also the one whose mother-"

"Can I ask you something?" Came D-M to the rescue (sort of). Monet smirked at me and nodded her consent in D-M's direction. "I ask this to every well-to-do girl, are those real?"

She was pointing the end of her butter knife at the snobbish girl's chest. Monet seemed taken aback by this, sticking out the uhm 'things' in questions as she puffed out her chest.

"Of course they are!" Monet exclaimed, then calmed down again, and decided it best to ignore us. But did D-M let it drop there? _Noooooo_.

"Oh, I didn't mean to offend you," Liar. "It's just that I found out that a lot of girls with money have it done so they don't feel inferior to those that have a big bust naturally."

"Daisy, can we _please_ get to a different topic?"

She smiled at the person, "It was just a question."

Monet _completely_ ignored us at this point, well _fine_ with me! Maybe she wasn't so bad, but I didn't want to talk to her anymore knowing she knew all that stuff about me. All my weaknesses. At least she didn't know who I li-_wait_ a sec!

It just registered what Daisy-Mae Bumpkin did for me! She stood up for me! Maybe she does have a human side after all! I was half way on the floor by this point when I looked up to my country-fried friend, who completely shocked me by winking and giving me a smirk.

Dang, she was good if she was just putting on an act all the time!

Man, she was _scary _if she was putting on an act all the time.


	10. One Right After Another

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 010**_

* * *

_I was going to kill him!_

Not with just something simple like a gun, _no_! This called for some torture and torment, something that I could almost call a professional sport _then_ he could die! I could hide the body in a cave or by the lake. I could get _someone_ to help me bring it down there. Or kill him when he is in his ice form, then let him melt out of existence.

Yeah, yeah that would work!

It's bad enough that I've been depressed since I've learned that I'm a mutant, but things just got worse when I grew _wings_ (feathers are finally coming in but it is _so_ itchy!) and then, _then _Bobby "The Jerky Iceman"-correction "Ice_boy_" Drake decides I need a pick-me-up...literally.

Let me tell it like it was. I get woken up _again_ at sixish, but this time it wasn't by a perky Miss Rogue or the devilishly handsome Mr. Remy (someone that good looking is quickly forgiven for picking on me), oh _no_ that would all have been a blessing. Instead I get an ice bath.

_Freezing cold_!

Yelping and jumping up at the same time, I was about had a heart attack from the sudden change in temperature. That's not why I wanted to kill Ice_boy_ either. Miss Rogue had used the ice method several times before when I refused to get up (okay, so she only threatened!). I was half on the bed and half of the floor, my top half on the floor and the bottom half tangled in sheets on the bed.

In the doorway I saw the silhouette of Bobby-meanie who, with a single finger, flicked on the lights of my room and stood there smirking at me. I grumbled at him, and cringed as my wings (which were called 'cute' by Jubilee or Jewbiwee with the little gray feathers speckling the black skin) smacked on the floor completely.

"Time to meet Kurt," he said simply.

Grrr, he needed to burn or melt. _Something_. Was this the end? Oh, _no_. Life would have continued like before, but Bobby-meanie didsn't know when to quit. Sadly, I had to let him assist me down the hall and steps to the gym where this _other_ blue guy was waiting.

Gold eyes, three fingers on each hand, three toes on each foot, and a _tail_. My eyes must have left their sockets as he flipped around the place like his tail was on fire. Oh, did I mention his tail had a tip? Like a little arrow type thing?

"Hello," he greeted with a deep accent that I couldn't place. Bobby then decided to drop me on the wooden planks of the gym floor.

"Kurt, this is Kerry," Bobby-meanie introduced, Mr. Kurt smiled showing off his_ fangs_. "Grace, this is Nightcrawler."

"A worm?" I said it instead of thinking it. Whoops. Thankfully all that did was make his fangy smile grow. Whew.

"I hear you have a problem with standing up."

Geez, did everyone know about Kerry's lack of mobility? I nodded and took his outstretched three fingered hand. He was pretty strong for a skinny guy, being able to haul me to my feet is not a small task. I balanced for all of two seconds before I started to sway toward the ground. Bobby-meanie caught me by wrapping an arm around my waist, which meant I did a nose dive into his chest, ick; I wish he would have just let me fall!

Though he smelled good, too.

"Hm, you're too tense." That was the beginning, but wait, it gets worse. "Bobby, could you help her loosen up–outside?"

There was something in the way they exchanged glances and smiles that should have tipped me off. But it didn't. Like a true trusting teenager, I went along with Bobby-meanie. _Big_ mistake. There was a door that led to the 'backyard' of the mansion, after that was open, he told me to hold on to him. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around his neck as Mr. Kurt shouted for me to do. If this meanie tried anything, at least I could choke him into submission.

_Wrong._

Before I had time to curse or scream, this _ice_-blockhead had me about five hundred feet in the air and spiraling quickly to the ground! My screams were about five miles behind me at the point he decided to do this cute little loop-de-loop upwards. He was laughing it up.

My dinner was trying to come up.

"_I hate you_!" I screamed over and over. Followed by a few shrieks as the jerk headed straight for the trees! "_Stop it_!" And you know what? He did. He stopped. In mid twist, letting me think we were done until I opened my eyes, and looked around.

We were upside down.

We were about a mile in the air.

I was about to pass out if the adrenaline hadn't kicked in and got me screaming again. "_Not here_!"

"I was just following orders."

I wished I could have told him to go melt but I was too busy being freaked out at this point.

By the time Bobby-_jerk_ decided that he couldn't take laughing so hard anymore, he stopped right where we had left. He and Mr. Kurt (who I thought was a nice guy, but boy did he just prove himself wrong by being in cahoots with Bobby-_jerk_) had to literally pry me off of the blockhead's back.

"I think she's more relaxed now," Mr. Kurt chuckled, looking down over me as I gasped for breath, lying on my back on the lawn.

"Naw, I think she could have gone another five minutes," Bobby-_jerk_ laughed.

Man, I hated him!

"Can you get up? Or do you want to go _up_," he pointed to the sky, "Again?"

"_No_!" I screamed, and then struggled to get into a sitting position. I muttered something under my breath, when _Bobby_ asked what I said, I almost screamed at him. "_I hate you_!"

Okay, so I did scream.

"Whoo! No need to lose your temper!"

"Why not! You just made me lose twenty years of my life!" I was fuming at this point; hey, fear and anger go hand in hand. Well, if I survived the thing I feared and by some strange fate I had, this might not seem like something you'd want to murder someone about–but just wait.

"Good thing we got it on tape for," Bobby-_jerk_ paused, smirked, and replied, "future references and your file." I glared up at him. I forgot about those stupid security cameras. And yes, they had to be reviewed, to learn where I was 'weak,' and what improvements they could make on their teaching skills.

Fire Bobby-Blockhead. That would improve their staff 100 percent!

* * *

"Are you still mad?" D-M asked, pushing the book I had pretended to be reading out of my line of vision.

"Nope," I lied, yanked the book from her grip, and continued to pretend to read. It was a cookbook, besides not being able to have sweets, wouldn't you know that one of my favorite past times was baking and cooking? Something that probably was prohibited as well as long as I was on my 'diet'.

"You're lying." Daisy-Mae then flopped down on my couch. Yes, the couch in the lower level Rec. room was now mine. I had claimed it. Why? Because after a long speech about how anti-social I was, they locked me out of my own room. Yes, Scott-No-Cookie now held the keys to my room in his pocket. Oh, this I cried and whined about but Professor used his favorite phrase on me again, "I've made my decision."

So I made it mine; the Rec. room couch was now mine.

"Since when did you become a psychiatrist?" I snapped, I was lying on my stomach because my wings made it highly uncomfortable to flip over, and there was about a foot and a half of couch left with me on it, and didn'tcha know, D-M fit it perfectly?

"There's no need for the stinky attitude," she complained in a huff. "I was just trying to be friendly."

"Well, don't," I replied. I didn't want to make nice, not with her, even though she had helped me out with the Monet thing. "Besides, don't you have some sort of cheerleading practice or something to attend? Glee club? Pep Club?"

"No. I'm too fat," D-M replied in a cheerful, though somewhat strained, tone.

"And I'm the one they put on a diet." Man oh mighty, was it the pictures of the roast beef doing this to me?

She seemed to get slightly _more_ upset at this. "Heard you got a training trip with Bobby this morning, was it fun?

"About as much fun as having a swarm of alien mosquitos suck the blood out of me," I grumbled, then in a lower tone, "Or this conversation."

I don't know why I was feeling like being a witch with a capital 'B' but I was, and this poor (ha ha) girl was getting the brunt of it. I flipped through the desserts section of the book when it was completely ripped away from me. I made a funny noise in protest but I had a _glaring_ country bumpkin looking down at me. When the heck did she get up?

"Why are you such a pessimist?"

I laid there for a moment going through my mental dictionary for that last word, and once I found it, I pushed myself up to a sitting position, "I am not! It's better than being a complete flake!"

"I am _not_ a flake! Just because I like to be nice to people doesn't make me a flake! It makes me nice!" She protested, throwing my book down to the ground with a _thud_.

"You're a game show host in training!"

"Am not! At least Ah don't belittle everyone and everythin' like _some_ people!" She persisted, wiggling a finger in front of me.

"I do _not _belittle everything and everyone!" I protested, pulling me knees under me for better leverage.

"Sure you do, anytime any one talks to you, you get this bored look on your face and then start rolling your eyes as if they're some type of marbles. _And_ when anyone tries to help you, you are completely rude to them because you don't thank them or anything! Just glare at them! _That's_ belittling! _And_," the girl thought she was on a roll, "at least _Ah_ try to get along with the people here instead of not even lowerin' myself _not_ to talk to them!"

I was cornered, and when a teenage girl gets cornered, she reverts back to her favorite lines of defense, "Shut up! You don't know me! You can't judge me just because you've shared the same house with me for a couple of freakin' weeks!"

"Tss," Daisy hissed, "It was all the time Ah needed. Now, Ah'm going to go talk to someone who is actually pleasant."

Yes, after that she left. What more was there to say? It cut me like a scroll saw, every little piece of me seemed to be put on the butcher block in the last few days. First Monet pointing out my mistakes, and now this chicken from the country comes pecking at my attitude. So what if I haven't screwed on a smile like she does? So what if I don't talk very much? And rolling my eyes, I never do that!

I then folded my arms and rolled my eyes.

Ee gads! Don't tell me she was right!

* * *

I sighed for the fifth time in under a minute.

Welcome to the Batcave!

Okay, so it wasn't the Batcave, but I couldn't get my balancing act right and since Bobby-_jerk's_ little 'tense releaser' didn't work; Mr. Kurt said tomorrow he'd start teaching me for real. The Batcave is the Rec. room where I had been for the past six hours and since the sun went down thirty minutes ago, I have been in the dark. Thus, the Batcave.

I heard people passing in the hall every so often, but I didn't want to call out for help. I feel like such a burden and I didn't want them to think I'm not capable — because I am! Just not at this very moment. I didn't want to make them think I was weak or anything like that. I didn't need to be humiliated anymore than I naturally was by myself.

So I had resigned myself to sit there, in the dark, until a rerun of '_Friends'_ or some other popular show came on, that way I could yawn and pretend to wake up. This would save my fractured pride and make minimal conversation–_man_, D-M was right.

Does that thought make my stomach turn or what! Yeah, sure I was a pessimist, but I was a happy ignorant pessimist! Then _she_ had to go and burst my bubble of delusion with her version of the truth. I hated thinking!

* * *

It was early the next morning when someone poked me in the shoulder. I groaned as an incoherent protest and tried to get the person to leave me alone. This turned out to be just as effective as the 'I'm dead' response to being woken up–it didn't work.

"Come on," came an accented voice, "You don't want Scott finding out you slept in."

I peeked over my shoulder with a sleepy-eye half opened, it was Mr. Kurt–or Dr. Hank had been laying off the Twinkies? Pushing myself up, I yawned and stretched and then just sat there.

"Are you coming?" Mr. Kurt asked, whipping his tail side from side.

What was _Scott_ going to do if I didn't get up? Wake me up? Tell me to get up earlier? Ha! But, I had this horrible little niche in my normally passive personality; I don't like being told that I couldn't do something! It's different if I believed it but no one tells me I couldn't do something! And D-M basically told me I could only be a pessimist, happy as I am to be that, I didn't like her thinking she could peg me out so quickly.

So what did that mean? That I forgave and forgot about the things Mr. Cookie Monster and Bobby-blockhead did to me? _No_. They still had to die, but it did mean that I would become a social butterfly. I'd be so sickly friendly that they'd beg me to be more like my old 'real' self. Yeah! I could do it!

I struggled to the end of the couch and clambered to my feet. I was ready! I was pumped to prove that hill billyette wrong! I was–falling!

"Ack!" I let out before I landed in a thump, hitting my elbow on the table on my way down.

Okay, so I'd be sickly sweet later, right now, it was time to get my balance back. A task proving easier said than done. With Mr. Kurt just _staring_ at me with a bemused look on his face, I guessed he wasn't going to be helping me anytime soon. No indeed, he arched a blue eyebrow, and asked if I was going to get up any day soon.

"I'm coming." I replied in a sleepy, yet happy (ick) tone. And then I did it, slowly but surely, I made my way past the couch.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Kurt asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

"I'm crawling," I answered and so I was, on my hands and knees. My wings were more or less pretty useless to me (or so Mr. Angel said) until I got my equilibrium back and then he'd take over teaching. This was great incentive for me to start putting more effort into regaining my balance (yes, that was sarcasm).

"Why are you crawling?" Mr. Kurt sighed as I came to a rest as his three-toed feet. Where did he buy his shoes for feet like that? "You should be trying to walk."

"Gotta crawl before you can walk right?" I urged with a nervous laugh, this only got me a fangy smile and no help. This guy really meant for me to learn and quick.

As if he had read my mind Mr. Kurt popped off with, "God helps those who help themselves."

Another nervous laugh, this was going to be a long lesson.

…

They had to be kidding me! They were _not_ serious! Of course, this was Professor and _Scott_ I'm talking about, those that don't know how to joke or play around. Well, _Scott_ had a cruel side and liked torture but didn't do normal humor! So what on earth was wrong with them? I know! It was the same thing that D-M was smoking that made like this! She gave them some of her whacky weed and the two men in front of me had turned completely, for lack of better words, _wacko_!

"Why?" I squeaked at their announcement. Actually they had announced several things. First was my not returning to school to finish the school year since there was only a month or so left. I'd repeat the grade (ick), and instead would be getting lessons from the Professor for mental coaching (something about me thinking too loudly?) and some other things, but above all–they were moving me to the _men's_ wing!

I kid not.

"I've explained this to you," Professor Xavier sighed, "Since you are being taught by Kurt, Remy, Warren, Scott, and being watched over by Hank, it makes perfect sense to move you where they can watch you. This way you'll be able for higher levels of education in your mutant powers in half the time if you were constantly being taught."

"B-b-but I'm a _girl_!" I protested, feeling the sweat on my brow form. Not only did they decide to lock me out of my present room but now I was going to get a new room, which I knew they had full intentions of locking me out of still. Me, anti-social, ha! I spent the entire night in the Rec. room...but what did that matter? _Scott_ smiled at this outburst, weak and pathetic as it was, and decided to take this point of the conversation into his hands.

"As we are well aware," he reassured, which wasn't very reassuring. "Since there is only one main bathroom in the Men's wing, we'll draw up a shower schedule and the like for you and the others on the wing. Just remember to lock the door behind you."

My black cheeks would have been beat red if you could see red through black. This was _so_ not fair! This was _so_ not going to happen! There was no way!

"And your room will be close to the showers, which is roughly in the middle of the hall," Professor went on about certain things, like how the rooms were about two feet shorter and such. I was panicking at this point, and didn't really care about floor space! I was being moved to the men's wing, and above that I would be smack dab in the middle!

What was wrong with these men! Didn't they realize my reputation was at stake? What would I tell my mother (who I believe is denying my very existence at this point) that, oh, yeah, Mom, I'm living with a bunch of guys and man is it _fun_! _Right_. She'd kill me! If she ever talked to me again, I really miss her.

And my snobby baby sister...but what am I thinking? Back on track Kerry Michelle! You're being booted into the middle of testosterone land!

"You'll be moved in two days, this weekend," Professor Xavier chimed in, my heart was now pounding in my ears, I felt the tears of some emotion start to burn my eyes. "So please be boxed up and ready to go by then, Kerry."

I might as well pack my stuff for Goodwill to take it, I was going to die of embarrassment, I just _knew _I was. I was going to be closer to Angel, Sam, Bobby-blockhead-oh man! I was going to be closer for him to victimize me! At least Scott lived at the boathouse, where ever that was. Why didn't they just shoot me when they met me?

I just knew it was going to be a dreadful experience, probably at the end of the time I was here (which I am thinking is bridging on forever) I was going to make a vow of never being married.

Or become a nun.

At least black was slimming.


	11. Grounded

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 011**_

* * *

"Another layer?" I questioned as my sensitive back got poked again with a metal device with a long name.

"Yes, so it would seem," Dr. Hank hummed and hawed for a moment behind me, I think they teach that in medical school, but I wasn't too sure. Perhaps he's just a drama que-er, king and happened to like the suspense and dramatic pauses? I wished he would stop doing it though; he started to say something about my mutation and then suddenly became quiet.

"Seem? How does it _seem_ like another layer?" I pondered again, trying to pry information out of a man who usually talked to anything and anyone. Maybe that was why he was Bobby-blockhead's best friend. Grrr.

"All the skin remnants have been removed, correct?"

I cringed; my mind went back about two days when I had been sitting in the shower, nearly losing my lunch as I tried to pick out the pieces of flesh from my black hair with trembling hands. Yeah, I'd say I was pretty much done with the transformation. I was jet black, like my hair, and with big, fluffy wings. The wings were fluffy because of the 'baby' feathers that covered them. The fluffy wings were also useless, except for making me trip, there wasn't really any function to them.

"Yeah," I shivered, "I'm sure."

"Hmm, well, as I have told you, there seems to be another layer of skin forming—one of your natural skin tone." Dr. Hank then poked me in the back again.

_Yes_! I wasn't going to be completely odd! Don't get me wrong, the wings bothered me, but the dark black skin seemed to put an aura of 'danger' that was so not true. Sounds cool, neh? _You_ live with it then tell me if it's cool or not.

"Then why was I shedding in the first place?"

"I don't know. I can only hypothesize that the emotional peak you had when your skin began to break apart has to do with your mutation. Also, you are _still_ mutating."

This was not reassuring. "I'm not going to grow tentacles or anything am I?"

Please say no! I can live with the big, fluffy, and completely useless wings but I could _not _live with the fact I would look like a Dr. Who villain of the day.

This caused the big blue doctor to chuckle and reassure me that I was not going to grow anything else as far as the X-rays and blood work showed. How blood work could show this, I'm not sure, but he's the one that went to college for a good portion of his life.

Well, at least that was _some_ good news.

"And for all your hardships, my lady, I feel obliged to reward you for your diligent efforts and patience as you come to know and learn from us here at the mansion," he said all this in one breath, while bowing low. This man had skills!

"Uh," I don't know what exactly he was getting at, "Thanks?"

His back was turned; I should have known this meant something good if he was being dramatic. Dr. Hank got a gold star from me because as he turned back around after digging in one of the many drawers in the medical lab he had in his furry paw a great big piece of packaged sugar.

Yes, I mean a Twinkie.

Normally I tried to avoid them, but I was dying for something processed instead of grown in the middle of a field. I was proud to say, I did control my drooling as my eyes became large and my grin spread across my face like the chocolate coating on a doughnut. And, for the first time in a month and a week, I had a sugary substance in my hand.

"For you, my lady." Dr. Hank gave an enormous grin, and then added, "Now, I hope you respect that I took this from my very secret stash. And if Scott asks," he lowered his voice and leaned in, "You didn't get it from me."

"Gotcha," I said with firm nod. I wasn't sure if I was talking to the _great_ Dr. Hank or the little spongy sweet yummy thing in its little wrapper that sat helpless in my hand.

Then we heard footsteps coming near.

_No way_! He was not going to get it this time! Quickly, I plucked the pillow up, put my tasty morsel underneath it, and put on the innocent act. If _Scott_ thought he was going to get this, he would have to work for it this time!

"Yo, Hankster." That's when Mr. Hawaiian shirt came through the door. At least it wasn't Cookie-Nazi again, that would just be a bit too cliché for my tastes. The doctor perked up as his friend came in instead of the 'fearless leader' like I heard some call him, "I was sent to tell you Scott wants to talk to you about–something." The man shrugged.

"I see, well Kerry, I guess we'll have to finish this later. Bobby, please entertain my guest until I get back." With that Dr. Hank leapt out of the room and started to hunt for Scott.

I eyed the _Iceboy_ with suspicion. There was something about the way he had sat down in Dr. Hank's swivel chair, the way he clicked his tongue, and the biggest reason was because Bobby-Jerk watched the doctor leave before he broke into a _huge_ mischievous grin.

This wasn't going to be good.

After a few clicks, Bobby-Jerk jumped from the chair and began hunting in the drawers, trying to keep them as neat as possible while trying to find–something. Next he attacked the shelves, inspected behind and in some of the medical equipment.

I told myself not to acknowledge him, to just grab my Twinkie, shove it my mouth and sing the sugar praises. But my better judgment seemed to be a little man against the bigger, louder crying cat of curiosity.

"What are you doing?" I finally asked, this got him to huff in annoyance and return to the chair, eyes drifting all around the room with his eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his brow.

"I know he has a secret stash in here, somewhere-" Bobby-Jerk got up from the chair and started to inspect the bed I was on. Opening and shutting drawers, feeling under the bed, even the space between the floor and bed. "He is a Twinkie hog, and since we aren't supposed to have sweets in the house, I'm desperate."

"Why don't you just ask him for one then?" I asked, annoyed by his digging. I was going to slap him up cross the head if he got too close to me.

"Ha! That's like asking for Kurt to give up his tail!"

I guess I wasn't the only one in sugar withdrawal; _Scott_ had the whole house suffering. I began to wonder if they even had sugar in their Kool-Aid, heck, do they have Kool-Aid?

My mind should have stayed put, because, through the corner of my eye, one second too late, Bobby reached under the pillow.

"Ah-_ha_!" He chimed.

I blanched.

"Hey! That's mine!" I protested as he began to unwrap it, I tried to grab it, but found my balance to be testy, so I had to grip the sheets to keep from falling off the bed.

"Hmm," he did the Dr. Hank thing, and tipped his head to the side, rubbing his hand that didn't have _my_ treat in his hand on his chin as he studied me. Then, with a grin, he almost _danced_ to the other side of the room, "Come and get it, if you want it."

"But I can't! I can't walk!" I glared at him for all my worth, the treat was getting closer to its demise as I sat there, and he was about seven feet away from me.

"Finders keepers, losers–well, you know." With that _Iceboy_ _ate my treat_! Making happy noises with each bite, and then licking his fingers clean of the cream left on them from the tiny yellow snacks. "_Mmmmmmm_, that was worth the search!"

"You are such a jerk!" I fumed; I lost my restrictions with this _jerk_ long ago.

"Yeah, but I am the jerk with a Twinkie in his stomach."

I really needed to think out my actions, I nearly snarled at this heartless excuse for a man as I lifted my leg, grabbed my clog from my foot, and chunked it at his smug face.

Of course it didn't hit him. He ducked, letting it sail pass his head, then stood up, and stuck his tongue at me. Then came the crash.

We both tensed.

The sound of glass breaking in a medical facility could not be good. Bobby-Jerk looked at me, and then turned around to see a few beakers of bright blue fluid dripping down the side of the counter.

We were in _so_ much trouble. Perhaps Bobby-_jerk_ could have gotten some of it clean, had not, like two seconds later Dr. Hank bounded back through the door.

"Bobby, I talked to Scott he didn't–_oh my stars and garters_! What happened here!" Dr. Hank jumped to the counter, tried to salvage his precious whatever it was. Then, with a look I've never seen, the furry doctor peered over his shoulder to Bobby-Jerk and then to me.

"Don't look at me like that, Hank!" Bobby-Jerk tried to get out of his impending doom and started to back up for the door. Dr. Hank glared harder, with such menace that he even put _me_ to shame. He turned his back to us for a split second, reached into the mess, and then pulled something from it.

"I believe this is yours, Miss D'mon." Dr. Hank held up the glop-covered clog I had been wearing.

"See! I'm innocent!" Bobby-Jerk missed the door and hit the doorframe instead. Dr. Hank shot him a warning look. I swallowed hard, drawing the attention back to me.

"Who's responsible?"

I looked over at Bobby-Jerk, who in all his audacity, was pointing accusingly at me. Well, I'd seen this in cartoons enough; I stuck out my hand and pointed straight back at him.

"I see." Dr. Hank muttered darkly.

I had no idea what was going to happen to us, more importantly, _me_ but I knew it was not going to be pretty.

* * *

I'm not going to retell of the speech, but it was long. Dr. Hank got both versions of the story and I got grounded. Professor said I needed to learn to control my temper–I think I rolled my eyes–whoops. Then I was reassured that if there was anything I was having difficulty with, I should address the survival guide, and talk to a superior.

_'X-Men Survival Guide to the Mansion'_ is what he handed me; excuse me if having a _survival_ book instead of a rulebook is a wee bit unsettling. It was a thin book with a spiral bind, I looked at the cover and said I'd read it.

I lied.

I don't like rulebooks. So, as I packed, I was just going to accidentally 'lose' it amongst my other belongings. It was moving day and it just so happened that there were volunteers to help me.

Makes a girl feel loved.

"Hey Kerry, do you know what your name means?" D-M asked bopping into my room. This surprised me, last time she uttered a word to me it was to tell me what a rotten personality I had, and now it's all buddy-buddy again? What gives?

"I thought you weren't talking to me."

"Ah got over it; Ah don't hold grudges like _some_ people." Flopping down on my bare bed and letting the book she held in her hands drop on her lap.

_Right_, then what was with the snide remark about the person who you had a grudge against, but aren't holding a grudge against?

"So, like, do you know?" She asked as she flipped through her little book with a picture of a chubby baby on the cover. I turned back to folding the sheets and shrugged as response.

"Wow! Cool! Mine means 'Daisy Flower'!"

I almost pitched forward in shock, "What did you think it would mean?"

"Ah dunno, now let's see, they don't have the right spelling but–hey! I'm competent!"

That was debatable! _Oh_! I can't prove her right!

Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, and bite my tongue.

"And let's see about yours," D-M started to flip through the book again, totally ignoring the fact that I wasn't paying attention to her. "Neat!"

Okay, so I was paying attention to her, and dang it all, I was too curious! "What?"

"Your name means 'dark princess'!"

I did the pitch forward thing again.

"You're kidding me!"

"You didn't know?"

"That stuff never interested me." But it fits; fate really did have a sense of humor. I figured if she was here, she was going to help, so I talked the country mouse with a personality problem (she's mad, _no_! now she's glad!) into helping me pack.

I shouldn't have talked her into helping me pack.

Since I was literally grounded, I had to ask her to clear out my closet of the tiny number of clothes I had. And as Daisy-Mae helped, she was also giving her personal opinion on everything I owned. Ever know someone who liked to give a back handed compliments? Well, there was no compliment, she was just verbally tearing apart ever thing I owned.

"Dang girl, where did you get this? The clearance rack of the Salvation Army?" She asked, holding up my new favorite shirt.

"Let me guess, the ninety-nice cent shelf?"

"I _think_ this is coming back into fashion."

"Woof."

The more she packed, the worse I felt. I thought she said she didn't hold grudges! By the time the others showed up to help me and my things to the other side of the house–into the _men's_ wing, my head was hung in shame. Daisy-Mae tried to perk me up once she realized I was down, though she couldn't figure out why, by promising as soon as I was let out of the house, we'd go shopping.

"Oh, could we," was my reply. Miss Rogue assisted me to my feet but that was all. Mr. Kurt apparently told them I had to learn to move by myself or I'd never learn, thus the reason why it took me nearly an hour and two bruised knees later to get to the other side. My things were waiting in my new room.

It seemed okay, but I didn't know where anyone else was located, so this was going to be fun. Sighing in relief that I had finally made it, I slowly limped into my room, grabbed the box nearest to me, dropped to the ground, and started to shift through the things.

I smiled bitterly at the irony. Somehow the box got turned upside down because I remembered putting the Survival Guide on the very bottom with a bunch of my 'horrible' clothes.

* * *

"Come on, one step without a wall or assistance. It's not so hard." Mr. Kurt said encouragingly.

I grimaced as I held on to the pole attached to the wall for support. He was crossed armed and legged waiting at the end of the pole. I was half a room away from him. My fluffy wings started to cramp again, which Mr. Angel said was normal because of the lack of muscle use.

I didn't have them before _to_ use, so it's not too surprising they weren't used to it.

"I can't!" I cried, holding the pole even tighter.

"Yes, you can. You've gotten a lot stronger since you started, at least you can stand up straight."

"Holding on to something," I reminded him.

"And you just walked half the room without falling or tripping."

"Holding on to something," was I the only one that remembered this oh so important factor?

"I have lost my mutation, meaning my tail, and then regained it. So I know it's hard, but you must try." Just to emphasize his words, his tail flicked behind him.

At least I was going to know how to take a fall.

"Okay," I muttered, taking a deep breath. There was no way this was going to work. I shifted, my wings now pressed against the pole and both arms reaching behind me to steady myself. I closed my eyes.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Kurt asked; his voice dipped with humor.

"Trying to walk."

"On your tip toes?" I looked down at my feet; I was standing on the balls of my feet. Smiling impishly I put my feet down flat, stared across the room, and then again closed my eyes.

I stuck out one leg, but then Mr. Kurt's voice stopped me again, "Are you in the German army? You don't have to step so high, walk naturally." He paused as I lowered my leg, "And open your eyes so you can see where you're going."

Oh, I _knew_ where I was going. It's called the floor and trust me, we've met.

Still, I did both. One leg out, this was a real advancement.

"Let go of the pole."

"Oh, yeah, right." I was kind of hoping he forgot that I was holding it, but then again, he'd have to be blind not to realize that I was. I released it and my weight shifted to the out stretched leg. Okay, I had half a step down. Swallowing hard, eyes opened, and shoulders tensed, I then stuck out my other leg, and–and actually did it!

I was so surprised that I moved forward and not down that I stood there in shock until my instructor told me not to stop, but keep going.

By the time I did stop, I was on the other side of the room, gripping the pole to keep my trembling legs from buckling underneath me.

_I just walked!_

I turned slowly on my heels but asked for too much in so little time, I tangled my legs and fell backwards. But I didn't care! I was mobile again! I could move! I could have my revenge on the Twinkie eater!

"I did it, right?" I questioned, looking over a smiling blue guy. "I-I mean I actually walked? No tripping, no help, just me?"

"Yes."

I couldn't help myself; I started to cry I was so happy. It was like being prisoner in my own body and then I breaking free and kicking the jailer in the behind as I took back myself.

"Do you want to try again?"

"Nono," I said quickly. "I'm happy with this for right now," Mr. Kurt nodded and said he'd be right back with a towel. When he came back and handed me my towel, my tears had dried, but my smile was still present.

"I guess this means you get to move on to your new challenge," Mr. Kurt started flippantly as if he was talking about the weather.

"What's that?"

"Flying lessons."

_What_!


	12. You knew it was going to happen

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 012_**

* * *

When my days started off well, I knew something bad was going to happen. Okay, not always bad, but it seemed to be an emerging pattern.

Take the day I learned I was a mutant. My day had been going great! I woke up before my alarm, knew what I was going to wear, was having a 'skinny' day (I actually thought nd felt thin), and didn't miss the bus. I wasn't late for homeroom and my first two hours of class were canceled due to our guest speakers...the rest I've already told.

So the day I woke up to get started on my 'flying lessons' I was in much the same frame of mind. There were going to be three separate instructors for various reasons that I didn't pay attention to after learning about one of them. He's the reason I was up early, shifting through my 'training' clothes which did not include that yellow and blue spandex nightmare.

I checked myself out in my mirror, which I normally didn't do, but there was a very good reason. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at what I saw. My normal flesh tone was resurfacing, in large patches; my face looked like I was wearing a black mask. The lower left half was still pitch black, while the rest was a pale ivory. Well, if I couldn't look decent (which I don't think I'm capable of) I decided I might as well be the best in every other way.

And who doesn't, when starting a new class, want to look their very best?

That's how I felt on Wednesday morning, when I woke up I was ready to get this started! Yes, I must admit that I was more eager to see the instructor than start to actual lesson, but no one needed to know that. The actual lessons had been pushed back three days after my first steps so I could regain the swing of things.

It didn't take me that long to get used to walking–running was a different matter completely, but I didn't run so no worries about that. With my shower things in hand and my clothes for after the shower, I double checked the shower schedule. It was made to keep the 'boys' from accidentally walking in on me. Or I them, of course with my luck, I'd run right into Bobby-Jerk.

I still think it was funny, a twenty something year old guy got grounded like a teenager! Ha! And _no_ I didn't walk in on him.

I poked my head out into the quiet hallway, everyone was asleep or not in the hall. Confident that no one was around, I walked quietly to the bathroom which was directly across from my room.

No one was in there either. Though, I must admit, it still made me blush to see urinals in the bathroom. The bathroom, as a whole, was kinda always in a mess. Towels shoved in the corners, dripping faucets, shaving cream suds on the mirrors, cracked floor tiles , and around the sink lips were razors that seemed to never quite make it into the trash basket.

The women's wing bathrooms were much nicer.

Picking a shower, I threw my stuff in the stall and checked the entrance door. It was locked. That was a plus, so far I hadn't had anyone walk in on me, or me on them, but I didn't want there to be a first time! After putting my clothes in the wall cabinet, I ducked into the shower, hung my towel over the door, and started to shower with my flip flops on.

It's a _guy's_ bathroom. I wore flip-flops. End of story.

So there I was, bright and early in the bathroom, almost done with my shower (which was nice to know that the house never ran out of hot water!), when I heard it.

The door opened.

The door I had _locked_ opened.

And two distinctly _male_ voices filled the room.

"Scott has a lot of nerve calling an early morning Danger Room session!" One voice complained, that voice–Bobby-_jerk's_, got into the stale to the right of me.

"I heard it was your doin', dat dis is some payment for breakin' one of Hank's experiments?" No doubt that was Mr. Remy–to the left of me he went.

My water was still running, and I was about to make a break for it when the door creaked open again. _Great_.

"Good morning, gentlemen!" Dr. Hank sang out, and then, from what I could tell, started to run water in the sink. My exit was blocked. The other two gave their own acknowledgments; I did the smart thing and remained silent.

Okay, so I was two clicks from screaming out of there like mad rabbit with a towel wrapped around me, but I was too scared to act on it. And the reason they hadn't seen my wings peaking over the was because the stupid things suddenly hugged close to my body.

"And about that–thing, _she_ was the one that did the deed; I was only a witness to it! An innocent bystander!" Bobby-Jerk replied to Mr. Remy. I felt my anger flicker, I was about to shout out that it wasn't _me_ who stole another person's Twinkie!

"Speakin' of, ain't dis de time she's supposed to be in here? Accordin' to Slim's schedule?" Mr. Remy asked, veering of a subject when Dr. Hank let out something akin to a growl.

"So what?" Bobby-Jerk replied. "It's almost eight against one."

Again the door opened just about the time I was wondering if I could dissolve and go down the drain.

"Y'all seen the new kid? Ah was told to come get her for Warren, but she's not answerin' her door."

"Probably already down there," Bobby-Jerk answered.

The door closed, Sam was gone, and at least there was one male who wasn't taking a shower. I was having difficulty remembering exactly _why_ I wanted to take a shower about this point. I was standing stark naked, except for flip-flops, with less than an inch worth of wall on either side of me from a completely naked men.

I was thankful that the space between the bottom of the shower stall wall and the floor was also an inch or so. I doubt any of the men own flowery pink and orange flip flops.

"Bobby, you got some shampoo? I ran out." Mr. Remy asked, as I heard the door open _again_ and someone, quietly enter.

"Yeah sure," he paused, "Comin' at ya!" I saw a purple bottle fly over the top of the divider and into my stall. Oh crap. I bent down quickly, bumped the door with my shivering wings, picked up the bottle, and noticed that the door had become ajar.

Did I happen to mention that there is a full-length mirror on the back of the closet? Did I happen to mention that I could see clearly any image in that mirror because of what stall I had chosen?

For this reason I dropped the bottle.

I slammed the door shut, and started to feel lightheaded. The shampoo bottle was still in my hand as an image of me passing out, falling forward, and lying unconscious in nothing but wings, a waterproof watch, and shoes in the men's bathroom _while occupied_ with men. I felt sicker, but there was no way I was going to let that happen!

Oh yeah, _Sam_ had come back. I wasn't going to be able to look at him for a month. Apparently there was no shame in walking around in the _nude_ in front of other guys. I got an eyeful of his backside in the mirror when I had accidently opened my shower stall door.

"Any day now!" Mr. Remy sang out, I looked toward the small shelf in the shower, and threw my bottle over instead of Bobby-Meanie's. "T'anks!"

"No prob!" Bobby-Jerk answered, not even phased about the shampoo's prolonged journey. Thankfully, he killed his shower shortly afterwards. "Just get it back to me later, Cajun."

"Sure t'ing, mon ami." And with that, another sink started up. Good gracious, they take forever! And they complained about women taking too long in the bathroom. Ha! Well, maybe it wasn't as long as I thought, but the fact that I was _stuck_ in the shower stall while there seemed to be a revolving door to the bathroom might make it seem like eternity.

Mr. Remy finally left five minutes later but the main door opened about twenty billion times in those five minutes. I heard the voice of every male occupant in the place at one time or another, Dr. Hank was singing, and there were even some sounds of a playful fight going on. I didn't think any of them knew I was in there and I gave them until ten (it was, like seven past six according to my watch) to clear out or I'd fall asleep.

Everything was going kind of okay, _slow_ as Christmas to a five-year-old, but then Mr. Luke? Logan? Louis? Whatever, the hairy guy that stinks of cigars came in.

He grunted something and was going to leave but someone stopped him. "There's a free shower over there."

I could have died.

"No thanks, kid. I don't like co-ed showers."

Oh crap.

"Co-ed?" Sam questioned, I knew it was him because his voice near cracked at the word, and his accent got thicker.

What was I going to do? I was stuck in the shower, caught _somehow_ by this short hairy guy who stunk of cancer logs. No one in my family or any of my friends from Acola would have guessed what I did do.

* * *

"What took so long?" Mr. Angel asked when I came into the gym twenty minutes late.

"I–got held up in the showers," I explained my blush still present from before.

To this, thankfully, he only raised a blonde eyebrow but didn't say anything else about it. "Just make sure you're on time from now on." And then we got started.

What we started was nothing I really considered 'flight' lessons. My feet never left the ground, in fact he told me to get on the balance beam, which after a few tries, he finally agreed to assist me up on it. From there, he stepped backwards without even looking and then spread his white feathered wings.

They didn't seem so big scrunched up against his body, but they grew by the second. Massive feathers on the bottom, tiny ones on top, and all sorts of sizes in between made up his bright white wings.

"Try to spread your wings," Mr. Angel commanded.

I thought about it for a second, sighed, and then attempted to do what he asked. But truth told I had no idea how. They (the wings) weren't a voluntary muscle to me; they kind of hung back there lifeless and useless.

"I can't," I muttered, embarrassed because I so didn't like looking pathetic in anyone's eyes.

"Okay," he seemed to have a quick thought, "Stretch out your arms in front of you, like this." He stuck both strong arms out in front of his body, fingertips pointing to me.

I did the same, thinking that unless my arms sprouted feathers, this was really pointless.

"Now out to the side."

I did this; my face must have been funny looking, the lighter half still holding a pink tint from my memories that kept haunting me about what I had done less than a half an hour earlier, but also my eyes probably had a 'bored' look in them.

"Easy right?"

Duh, "Yeah."

"It's the same with your wings," Mr. Angel said, pointing at his set, then mine. "They work just like an extra set of arms; you command them much the same way, only that instead of in front of you, they're in the back."

I tried to get the stubborn things to obey me again and again they twitched in amusement. If felt funny to have the muscles try to stretch that I hadn't been born with, heck they weren't there two months ago! Sighing in frustration, I crossed my arms against my chest.

"It's okay if you can't do it, Kerry." Mr. Angel gave a short laugh and shook his head, "I was just hoping that you'd be strong enough to."

Ouch, talk about a slap in the face.

"Don't look discouraged," I wasn't discouraged, I was upset. "All this means is that we have to build up your wing muscles before you can use them."

"Then what?" I asked, watching him close his wings and hop down to the floor mats.

"And then," he helped me down, I did a little less gracefully but recovered in enough time not to take him down with me. "We see if all your feathers have come in, and try your wings in the air."

From that point on, he became a _Scott_ wanna-be. Telling me to get on my stomach and lift my wings, Mr. Angel (unlike _Scott_) helped me lift the stupid things because they were just stubborn.

Wonder where they got that from?

* * *

About noon, as I was in my room, still trying to get the soreness out of my backside, I heard a stampede start. I was only on this side of the mansion for three days, but I have learned some things. Like the bathroom door lock was _broke_ and when a bunch of noisy guys are heard at a decent time of the day–it was mealtime.

Since I wasn't brave enough to laugh off what I had done in the bathroom, I waited until it was all quite on the other side of the door, and _then_ left my room. I know, I know, 'what the heck happened in the bathroom already!' Don't worry, all news traveled fast in this house. I found out just how fast when I came into the dining room, and Mr. Remy was relaying the events to Miss Rogue.

"No one knew what de heck Logan was talkin' about, den she flings open the shower stall, towel of course where it needed to be, and calmly walks out of de shower." Mr. Remy chuckled, still not noticing I was _right_ there. "And so, of course we were all dumbfounded, didn't even know she was dere, and den she said 'The bathroom is all yours' and den walked out of de place"

"Kerry wasn't upset?" Miss Rogue asked, okay, was I invisible? Last I checked in a mirror, I still could be seen (especially with my stupid diet)!

"Shut the door to her bedroom and let out one hellava scream," Mr. Logan informed, studying me with a humorous eye.

"So that's why she was late," Mr. Angel added, I really shouldn't have come down.

"Cool, Kerry," D-M gushed, popping a chicken nugget into her mouth. "You actually have a backbone!"

I found my hands suddenly interesting where they sat in my lap. D-M had gotten good at those stupid backhanded compliments. Soon the conversation changed topics after the laughter died down. And just to make matters worse, I should have picked my seat more carefully, _Scott_ sat right next to me.

Think that's bad, he tried making small talk. I guess it was his attempt at reaching out to the quiet girl who he _stole cookies from_. Everything _Scott_ asked, I answered with the multi-purpose answer of 'Fine.'

"How is your training with Warren going?" I guess that's Mr. Angel's name.

"Fine."

"Settled in your new room all right?"

Besides strutting in front of the _entire_ male population of the mansion everything was, "Fine."

"How are getting along with everyone over there?"

"Fine."

"You think Scott is?"

"Fin-_hey_!" Bobby-Jerk was listening to us, and slipped in the last question, the meanie head. _Scott_ looked over at the other man, and smirked. It seemed to take forever for everyone to eat and leave, though I was still pestered by _Scott_ with small talk, apparently Mrs. Jean was visiting with some old 'friends' of the X-Men. Something about seeing if they're willing to come back. I got to admit for a starched shirt, follow the leader, cookie-nazi, he could actually be tolerable. Now I had to go shoot myself.

"Don't forget, you get to do the dishes." _Scott_ reminded as he left the dining room. Okay, forget it; he's not a nice guy. It's all a disguise. Jerk. I stuck my tongue out at his back since no one else was in the room at this time.

I knew this was my punishment, but dang it, this was a blessing compared to what was going to happen.

* * *

Later that night, while the wrinkles were still on my finger tips from the dish water, I was getting ready to type another e-mail to my mom and sister. I logged on to the Internet, and then onto my e-mail account, my heart stopped.

There was a message from my sister.

I knew it was long because of the amount of memory it took up in my mailbox. I wanted to read it, I was about to click on it, the little white arrow hovered over the blue underlined text, but I just couldn't get my finger to push down to click on it.

What if it was something about how much they both hated me because I was a mutant? What if it said that they were going to move away so I could never find them in a million years or something like that?

A pesky, optimistic voice decided to make its opinion known in my mind because then a new line of questions appeared in my thoughts. What if they want to make up? What if my sister missed you and didn't care what my mother said? What if they wanted me to come home? What if they had gotten pass the shock and decided a mutation wasn't something worth losing a family member over?

I let go of the mouse and ran my fingers through my hair. This was so not right. I got an answer to my prayer, but I wasn't sure I wanted to read the answer. This was a total flip from the girl who had paraded out of the men's bathroom in nothing but a towel this morning.

Nothing like drawing out the boring part right? _Right_. Anyway, I was sitting there, almost in a fit of tears from _not_ knowing what to do, when my room was bathed in light.

"What are you doin' in the dark?"

"Practicing being a bat, I've got the wings, why not the cave?" I answered, not even thinking about it. Yes, I have a smart mouth when I'm not careful, no I usually didn't use it on adults. And again, no this wasn't an adult, this was Jubilee.

"Uh-huh," she answered, popping her gum. I didn't even look back at her, but I did pull up another screen so she couldn't see what I was doing. "Whatever, I came to get your list."

"My list?"

"Yeah, ya know the list of things ya want the 'shoppers' to get at the store." Seeing my clueless look, she furthered her explanation. "Shampoo? Conditioner? You know the basic things? Where'd you think they came from?"

"I dunno. Mrs. Jean just handed some to me. I didn't know anything about a 'list'."

"Well, now you know, so do you need anything?"

I did a mental rundown of my supplies; it wasn't a thorough list because I wanted her out of my room so I could go back to contemplating the letter. "No, not that I can think of."

She beamed at this answer, and left, almost slamming my door as she did. I'd have to ask about the 'list' business. Glancing at the clock on my computer, I nearly moaned with irritation. It was almost three o'clock, and that meant it was time for my next 'class' with Professor Xavier.

I really didn't want to see him, knowing he's a telepath, and me having all that mental anguish over my letter. I sighed, got up from my chair, left my room, and started to make my way across the house to his office. All the time, my mind played over the last evening I was at my home.

I wonder what my mom told my sister, Darcy Elizabeth D'mon (I think my mom was going through her Jane Austin obsession at the time) about me not being there anymore. Did she let her down easy? Tell her the truth? Of course Darcy told me she couldn't talk to me anymore 'cause I was the scum of the earth mutant as mom had said.

But this wasn't the time to think about that, I made up my mind that as soon as this nightmarish session with the Professor was over, I'd read that e-mail!

* * *

Someone up in heaven is laughing at me, I just know it!

The session wasn't anything big, just a talking thing mostly. He asked about my family (wonder why) and how I was adjusting to life here. I told him that a few of the men didn't obey the schedule, and that the bathroom door's lock needed to be fixed. Professor mainly just kind of gave this caring glare, if such a thing existed.

This wasn't why the person upstairs was laughing at me, oh _no_. I made up my mind that I was going to read the e-mail from my baby sister, and I was about to log on when Sam popped his head in my room.

"Whatcha doin'?"

I was feeling like a smart aleck, but it was a feeling I was well trained to contain. "Trying to get on the internet."

"Ya can't." I shot him a questioning look over my shoulder, "They're updatin' the firewall since we're gettin'–uh–younger people again." This caused him to look down and kick at something.

"Who?" I asked, being a complete moron at this point.

"You and Daisy, not to mention some of the older guys need to learn to keep–" he stopped there, and said a few other random things and then left.

_Great_. Just when I get my nerve, something like _that_ just had to happen!


	13. The War

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 013**_

* * *

They were sick and twisted people! I promise you! They found the cruelest way of getting an innocent bystander (okay, so I did throw the shoe) into the worst possible places.

Have no idea what I mean?

You try doing backed up laundry for about twenty people in a single afternoon.

Not only was I forced to do all the dishes every other day without the help of a dishwasher, but I also had to do the laundry, fold it, and put the baskets in front of everyone's door. Think that's the end? _Wrong_. Apparently that blue oozy stuff of Dr. Hank's I destroyed was some sort of rare goop that took him about a month to conjure up and had about a lifespan of three days. I killed it on the first day.

And Robert? Well, he has the 'oh so hideous' job of washing the cars, picking up the laundry, helping me do the clothes, doing the dishes when I didn't and some other odds and ends. This was my first stinkin' offense! Shouldn't they go heavy on him who had been here for-well I don't know how long but longer than me darn it!

I should just get a slap on the wrist! Not punched in the face by the uniforms that hadn't been washed since the late seventies! Ick. After another work out with Mr. Warren, who was trying his best to get me to lift my wings on my own like he's been trying to do for the past week, I had to do breakfast dishes and was hauled into the laundry room.

Talk about disgusting.

There were about four washer and driers, at least two of them were broken and that left me with only two working driers. Luckily, there were strings everywhere for line drying. That wasn't the worst of it. The worst was the endless rows of baskets. Each basket was stuffed, crammed, and overflowing with clothes. On each basket was a name of who the clothes belonged to but the most cursable thing was the long list each person had of how they wanted their clothes done.

Dr. Hank didn't want his lab coats washed in anything but Downy, while Mrs. Jean only wanted Tide to be used in her loads. Jubilee had some black value brand stuff that smelt like bubblegum and she wanted it sprinkled on all her clothes an hour before they went into the washer. But I couldn't wash Mr. Remy's clothes after Mrs. Jean's because the weird guy was _allergic_ to Tide..._Argh_!

After the first three hours of trying to faithfully follow the ridiculous guide lines, I started to cram all the clothes together and heck with them! Did I mention I wasn't thinking that I'd actually have to sort the clothes out? That was another nightmare I didn't happen until a while later.

Maybe the washing powder got to me, or the dust that had me sneezing and crying all at the same time, whatever it was, a little demon got inside me. At the moment I started to shove this 'special' load into the wash my halo (haha) broke and turned upwards into horns.

'Wash in cold/cold only' and 'let air dry' lost all meaning as I stuffed certain button down shirts with Hawaiian print on them into the washer. Not only those, but some shirts and pants with very delicate natures and probably were once attached to very high price tags all met the same fate. A cruel smile spread across my fully ivory toned face as I 'accidentally' dumped a cup of bleach into the loads and slammed the lids shut.

That'll teach them to get me into trouble and then have me do their laundry within the same year they punished and took my cookies away!

* * *

My genius attack of just ramming everyone's clothes didn't go as planned, after I was released from my prison to eat lunch and do the dishes, I had to go back to sort out the clothes. I mean all sorts of articles of clothing. From socks, to bras, to boxers, everything was mixed and muddled and waiting for me on top of the tables that lined one of the walls in the room. After discovering something dubbed a 'man-thong' I just shut my eyes and put people's things where I thought matched their tastes and considering I didn't know anyone that well (how many times do I tell myself to stop hiding?) I just pushed and shoved.

And then, after dinner dishes were done (I spent an entire day in that cursed room! Even Professor excused our appointment so I could get my work done) I had to give everyone their things. If I was smart I would have guessed Mr. Logan would have been the last person to have pink rabbit boxers.

But at that point in time I didn't care, it was around eightish when I was dropping off the last of the clothes. The last basket was Mr. Remy's, these people must not have any idea that some of us (namely me) like _not_ to touch their under clothes clean or not. Anyways, back on to the topic, I knocked on Mr. Remy's door, ready to go to bed, but when the door swung open, the basket wasn't taken in; _me_ and the basket were taken in.

"Hey dere, _petite_." Mr. Remy almost seemed to purr in a friendly voice as he shut the door after me. I stood there, mouth hanging open, my wings twitched, and my eyebrows arched so high they looked like part of my hairline. Not only because I was yanked into some guy's room, it was because of that and that the room was filled with the other residences of the hall.

"Great, another victim!" Bobby-Jerk chirped as he shuffled a pack of cards.

"B-but I didn't-!" I stammered, feeling very awkward holding a basket with some guy's clothes in front of some guys. Mr. Warren, who was straddling a computer chair, just smiled and shrugged.

"Ah didn't want to do this either, Kerry." Sam announced, that got him bapped on the head from Bobby-Jerk.

Mr. Remy took his clothes and shoved them into his closet, after which I started to back up toward the door. I should have moved faster.

"Ah, come on, _fraulein_, it'll be a getting to know you game," Mr. Kurt tried to reassure.

"It's the least you can do seeing as I would be working on my projects had not two certain persons destroyed it," Dr. Hank said with a creepy smile.

"You can't be scared of bein' in de same room wit' us seein' dat not more den a week ago you were wearin' nothin' but a towel in front of us," Mr. Remy pointed out.

My cheeks flamed red, "T-That was different!" That was survival, this was suicide! There was a difference thank you very much!

"And no worries about money, this is a secrets betting." I didn't understand what a 'secrets betting' was, but I didn't like the way Bobby-Jerk and Mr. Remy both started to crack up at the sound of it.

"I-I don't know how to play!" I was desperate, and it was the truth.

"That's two for the slaughter then."

They should have just shot me.

It was close to two in the morning when I was finally released to go on my way after the severe beating. Just as a 'joke' they made everyone get into pairs, and this meant Sam (the other novice) and I were together debating about what this and this card added up to. After about an hour and a half of laughing at us, they made us regroup. _Another_ sick joke was that they paired me with Bobby-Jerk. I went from one of my fellow clueless players to debating everything, Dr. Hank thought it was amusing that the criminals should be fighting.

"That's how your blue stuff got broken," I said, glaring at Bobby-Jerk as he switched out the cards I had wanted to keep.

"If you didn't always have such an attitude problem, maybe we wouldn't fight so much." Bobby-Jerk offered, grimacing as the cards we received were worse than the ones I told him to keep. Dummy.

"I do _not_ have an attitude problem," I informed them, feeling very sure of myself. It was bad to be full of yourself; you might pop and have to clean up a nasty mess later on.

"Oh please don't say that this is your personality!" I wasn't sure if I was shocked or hurt, but whatever it was it was forgotten when Mr. Remy chimed in.

"And he wonders why he's single."

And so on, until almost five hours later they let me and Sam out of the nightmare they called poker to go into our rooms since we were close to falling asleep. Little did I know there was still a lesson to learn that night.

They gave me the survival to the X-Mansion book thing, but I never read rule books. They were boring and mostly had the same things, like where to and not to smoke, where to exit during a fire alarm, etc. You understand right? Well I looked later in the book, read through it thoroughly and did not find a _thing_ about _not_ investigating strange noises.

Maybe I should have suggested it.

There was a sound coming from the side of the hall without the staircase, it was a munching sound. Not so much as a ice crunching sound, more like metal crunching, like a trash compactor but more stealthy? I had never heard it before, of course, I had never been leaving Mr. Remy's room in such an odd hour-heck, I never left his room before!

But as I have said before, I have a huge cat of curiosity that devours the canary of common sense. In dummy terms, I went closer to the sounds. Anyone who had as many notches in her belt with seeing scary movies would have told you _not_ to hang around, to take off in the opposite direction at top speed, but not me. Oh no, that would have been _way_ too logical for me. Sometimes I swear there was nothing but air in my skull.

"Hello..?" I questioned, slowly making my way down past the bathroom and further into the darkness of the hallway. The closer I got to the last bedroom door, which was slightly open, the noises became louder, and then as I gently knocked on the door...they stopped.

The hair on my neck stood on end at this, I think it turned gray and fell out when two sets of blood red eyes looked at me. My eyes must have increased three times their normal size as I backed away from the bright red eyes. They followed me. I didn't mean that they watched me as I stumbled out of the doorway and staggered backwards down the hall, no I meant they-the owners of the freaky eyes— followed me out.

They were these metal bug things, and they could move fast. Not as fast as me when I noticed one of them finish off a piece of shoe leather. They weren't nearly as fast as a tired, freaked out girl who was also letting lose an ear piercing scream but they tried.

Why was ever mishap imaginable happening to me!

"Kerry?" Someone questioned as I ran smack dab into some other body.

Poor Sam. I squashed him between me (who as soon as I landed, tried to crawl under him or something to get me away from the creepy critters) and the hard wood floor.

"What on earth..?" Sam muttered as I rolled off f and behind him as the creatures just looked at me curiously. If that's what you call them having a curious look.

"What the _heck are those_?" I demanded, pointing to the slugs. And if I knew that everything I did would provoke laughter from that bunch of guys, I'd go to Hollywood and play opposite of some funny guy.

"Maggot," Mr. Remy screamed, and from the depths (sounds neat doesn't it?) of the room I had run screaming from, came that man I'd seen when I met Miss Snob-to-all Monet and Jubilee. He was tall, tanned, and had this little cow lick of white hair.

"Wot?" He yawned, then seemed to understand the dilemma, and called those things by their _names_. Not that it was hard to know what was wrong since I was making stupid noises that on a good day would pass for words, and my arm poked out from around Sam at the creatures.

As the things slithered back down the hall, my eyes slowly went _back_ into my head. This was a good thing considering it took all of three seconds for most of the guys to either chuckle or poke more fun at me.

"There, big, bad buggies are all gone!"

"Man, she's going to prematurely age if this keeps up."

"I think I see gray hairs already."

"I see crow's feet around her eyes; maybe we should get her Cher's plastic surgeon's number?"

I hate guys. I'm becoming a nun in a closed convent!

* * *

It was a shock enough being woken up by a blaring alarm clock or an annoying co-inhabitant that threatened to freeze your covers-but it was something close to death being rudely awaken by flashing red lights and the loudest siren ever created.

"_Ahhh_!" I shot up from my bed-okay, so I kind of did the jerk-awake-while-having-a-heart-attack-causing-me-to-roll-out-of-bed-and-land-on-my-rump maneuver. I saw red lights dancing under the crack of my door, and for a brief second I wondered how the cops got outside (it was four in the morning!). The blaring, yet shrilling noise seemed to echo off the walls the closer I got to the door.

Finally deciding to stand, I tripped over my own feet a few times, and managed to make it to my door, and cracked it open. Outside my room was just as disheveled as my mind at that moment.

All the guys were running about in their _spandex_ and even Mr. Remy was wearing a long trench coat and carrying a metal stick in his hand. I watched, almost stupefied, as the people I lived with turned from your average (some of them slightly annoying) citizens getting a free ride from some rich man, into-well, into _the_ X-Men.

It wasn't the uniforms, they looked goofy to me, but it was just something that -that something! It was hard to explain! It was early, I had just gotten up, there were red lights swirling on the ceiling of the hallway, and the alarm was driving me nuts.

I opened my door a bit more to stick my head out of it-just in time to almost get it taken off by Sam.

"Hey!" I protested. This got the guy's attention, he's face wasn't so warm and friendly now, it was serious and focused. For a split second, he reminded me of _Scott_.

"Kerry, get back in your room," he ordered. Where the heck did he think I was going to go?

"Why? What's going on?"

"Don't worry about it, you'll hear about it later, get in," Sam repeated, I nodded, and shut my door. I sighed, and banged my head on the closed door. To my amazement the alarms were shut off shortly afterwards. In fact, the house became completely quite.

Too quite.

_That_ was what started to scare me. From what I could recall, there was only one other time that the mansion had been that quiet and that's when I was in the Danger Room with D-M, right before we were introduced to the 'Mansion Population Control' laser beam guns. Minutes passed slowly, I didn't move from my door. I was happy by my door.

Okay, so I was pretty much too scared to move-until the first thunderous boom shook the house. _That_ got me to move, in fact it got me to nearly fly (not with my wings) to my bed and tackle my stuffed Stitch doll. I sat there like a true coward shaking with fear, clinging to a stuffed animal as if he could protect me from whatever was going on outside.

Another earth shaking noise erupted and then the crackle of electricity lit up my window. Like a sick fascination, I slowly edged my way off the bed and with all the fake courage I could muster, pulled back my curtains.

I was surprised I even had time to scream.

This _thing_ that looked like a human was hovering right outside my window and when I peeked out the curtains-I didn't have a window anymore. I barely had a life anymore!

Whatever it hit me with knocked me halfway across the room with the glass and wood debris.

"_Mutant identification in process_." It looked like a man with gray hair, but its voice sounded like a computer, an angry computer that had just shot me.

I couldn't move. I hadn't been so scared in my life. It wouldn't be until later that I would notice the cuts from the glass all over my body and my singed hair.

"_Identification: Unknown. Expendable_."

_Expendable_! I felt my life slip away from me, and the stupid pink and black thing hadn't even done anything yet but _stare_ at me with its glowing yellow eyes. Slowly, almost teasingly, it raised its hand to strike. The fingertips of this creation were shading deeper and deeper red, like it was collecting power to kill me.

I stuttered and did my best to move, which was only backwards and didn't help at all. Stitch was long forgotten and had some fluff poking out of him where the glass had shredded his furry body. Why the _heck_ was I worrying about a stupid doll at a time like this!

Just as the fingertips drew closer to one another, and I could almost hear the jingle of the keys of Heaven opening up the pearly gates –it froze.

Literally.

"No fair trying to pick up girls at a time like this." I knew that pompous voice. It was Bobby! Or at least that's what it used to be! It was a walking ice person who fell into my room; the monster machine was completely frozen for the time being. I was still scared out of my mind. I panicked.

"Kerry, are you okay?" He asked, bending down, and trying to shake me out of my stupor. I got out of it all right, and not thinking, only busy being scared and thinking briefly of my dad.

"_Get away from me_!" I screamed and I scooted away from him. Tears sprung to my eyes as I fought my own battle of trying to get my heart under control, and my sanity to stay with me.

"Kerry it's me! Bob-_ahhh!" _Suddenly, he was flung over me, the big hunk of ice on top, glass and wood on bottom. Groaning, the man looked over his shoulder toward the thing that was still hovering outside my window.

Only its hand was free from the ice.

"Iceman!" I heard another familiar voice shout, and then a stench filled the air. The person addressed climbed to his feet and glared at the creature slowly melting its prison and still pointing its hand toward us.

"Get her out of here, Kurt," came a distinct female voice, and then I remember a hand grabbing mine and yanking me to a body, then-then I was in the 'big shinny room' at least that's where I woke up.

And, oh _man_ did I wake up. D-M was bawling for some reason, I felt sick to my stomach, and my eyes were doing some weird dance move in my sockets. I groaned as I propped myself on my elbows.

"Oh thank God you're okay!" Daisy whimpered, helping me to a sitting position.

"Enhh-what happened?"

"Ah-Ah don't rightly know!" She gushed, nearly breaking her words up with whimpers. "But they're fightin'!"

Well duh, it wasn't some late night movie marathon and even with us buried far beneath the earth, the sounds of the conflict where still heard. I smelled something awful, and picked up the top of my tank to and sniffed it, _eegads_! It made me sick; I briefly (and vainly) wondered how hard it would be to wash the stench out of my hair.

"Ah'm scared," Daisy-Mae whispered coming closer to me. What the heck would I be able to do? Feather them? Oh that would be great. Maybe the robots where ticklish, these fluffy baby feathers could make them giggle. Did I mention my brain lacks the ability to function reasonably when I was scared?

"Yeah, well, there's nothing we can do," I grumped out, a thought flickering through my mind that D-M would most likely use me as a shield should those _things_ burst through the doors.

"Oh my goodness! You're hurt!" She said as I felt my arm getting picked up by her. I looked at where she was glancing, sure enough there were deep cuts in my skin, but what was really strange was there was absolutely no blood.

"Huh?" I checked out my legs and free arm, it was the same. No blood. Cuts, but no blood or even a sign that it had bleed.

"_Ahhghhg_," Then something heavy dropping on the floor caused my attention to turn back to my friend. She was passed out cold. It was the first time I wasn't the one to hit the floor. It took a second for me to notice what had caused her to go sleepy-bye.

My skin was pealing. _Again_. This was great! Just _add_ to my freaked out state (anyone thinking I was kind of calm and collected, I wasn't) my skin decided to _rebel_ on me again! _Argh_!

I stripped all that I could off, crying, and cursing in my mind as I did so. After taking and shoving it into a pile, I checked on my still unconscious cellmate.

"Daisy?" I rasped, shaking her shoulder gently. "D-M? Get up!" I tried to stir her again, this time I had more success. She groaned and cracked her eyes open and nearly swallowed her tongue.

"Wha-?" The brunette questioned sitting up, griping her head with one hand, and balancing on the other. A memory must have struck her as she looked over at me and cringed. I _love_ that reaction; it's just _so_ reassuring. "Your skin!"

"Yeah, it's doing that thing again," I confirmed half-heartedly.

"But why weren't you-" I raised a hand, and shushed her. There was something missing.

The sounds from the struggle were no longer able to be heard.

"It got quiet," D-M pointed out the obvious. I felt my eyes roll before I had a chance to stop them. This earned me an 'I-told-you-so' glare from the girl.

"But who won?"

As if they had timed it, the doors hissed open, and the shouts poured in with the light. The figure silhouetted was short, and had sharp looking things looking things sticking out of its hands.

"_Ahh_!" was my reaction, trying to scurry behind D-M. Heck, she was going to be _my_ shield (again).

"Logan!" Was D-M's reaction, and before I knew it my shield was up and staggering to the man.

"You're needed kid." The girl nodded her head and ran out of the room. Mr. Logan looked at me, gave soft growl. "Are you planning to stay in here all flippin' day?"

"N-no." I stuttered, clambered to my feet, and made a quick exit.

The hallways were spotted with various people, but the closer I got to the med labs, the worse they looked. I felt my stomach turn and twist when Miss Rogue walked by me with her hair all a mess and dirt all down the right side of her body. Then Sam, nice and polite Sam, had a look of death in his eyes, like he was going to punch something and punch it hard. His cheek was swollen and there was going to be a nasty looking black eye come later.

This sent shivers down my spine. I didn't like hospitals, I hated anything medical (which was why I had to be lured into Dr. Hank's the first few times), and seeing all this blood and pain wasn't sitting right with me. Then I came to the medical lab. Every other person must have been there. I heard Dr. Hank shouting orders, Miss Munroe using a soothing voice to someone, Bobby-Jerk looking livid, and even _Scott_ looked beat up, dirty, and mad as a cat in water. Of course, he couldn't see me. D-M had her hands on either side of his head, and her eyes clamped shut, and sweat trickling down her round face.

"Wh-what's going on?" I asked in a hushed voice. Mr. Remy looked over at me and his face visibly paled.

"You shouldn't be down here, _petite_," he answered softly, then tried to lead me past the medical lab by holding my arm and tugging me in the direction leading back up to the living area.

Try as he might, I still saw what Mr. Remy was so vainly trying to stop me from seeing.

Red wings. Downy soft feathers coated with red— with blood!

"M-Mr. Warren?" I wheezed out, jerking my arm from Mr. Remy and going back to get a better look. What I thought I saw was fair from what was. There seemed to be a constant flow of the red from Mr. Warren's arms, his face was burned and dirty. His wings—they were twitching unnaturally. There were burn marks, and c-cuts on them. They were red. So much red.

I backed away shaking my head.

If this is what I had to look forward to—they could forget it!

"What is _she_ doing down here?" I heard Scott roar, griping my shoulder and turning me around roughly. "Kerry, what are you-"

"Get _away_ from me!" I screeched, hitting his arm roughly. Tears that stopped in the Danger Room started to roll down my cheeks again. All I could think of was my dad. My dad, the reason my mom hated mutants. The reason I was such an introvert. And Mr. Warren...his _wings_ were hurt.

_I had wings now_.

"Get her out of here!" Scott commanded as I started to shake. I felt someone's hand on my shoulder, trying to get me to turn away from the fallen angel's bloody body and wings. My head throbbed with the events of the past hour and it's no wonder miracles (twisted and sick though they were) happened.

I was forced (dragged really) out of the medical area. I was about ready to lose whatever it was that I last ate. My stomach hurt from the way my nerves knitted it into knots. Less than six hours ago I had been with Mr. Warren, and some of the other in Mr. Remy's room playing cards. I lost. But they were all healthy and laughing. And now? Now they looked like the cat got the best of them and they got the worst of the cat.

Just like dad.

I didn't like thinking about him much, but as I was guided to a padded bench and then left, shaking, crying and freaked out. I couldn't imagine why these people wanted to do what they do. What did they do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve being attacked?

I felt myself get even lighter headed. There was no time for self pity than a time when the fantasy of a pleasant world was being butchered and replaced by a brutal, bloodied reality.

I don't' know how long I sat there before I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

Sam.

Trying to blink back my tears, I looked up at him, and bit down on my lower lip to keep it from trembling. There was a—a _compassion_ in his eyes as he sat down next to me, pulled me to his chest, and held me as my tears fell without remorse. He didn't make any hollow promises or optimistic attempts, just rubbed my lower back and held my head close to his heart.

I didn't want to think about anything, I only wanted to go back to sleep and wake up pretending this night hadn't happened. I don't know when, but I must've fallen asleep propped against him. I vaguely remember him moving, and letting me lie down on the full length of the bench.

Even in a mostly asleep state, when I closed my eyes there was always _him_ burned to the back of my eyelids.

* * *

"Hey!" Someone shouted, shaking me awake, _roughly_. "Come on, get up!"

I peeked through a slit of my eye. Bright yellow and pink meshed together in an ugly combination, and as I slowly blinked the sleep out of my eyes, Jubilee came into focus.

"Thought you were going to sleep there all day! Sheesh!" She dramatized her words by waving her arms around in mock anger. I think it was fake at least, who knows? "The Professor wants to see you out on the lawn."

I pushed myself into a sitting position, threw my legs over the side of the bench, and nodded in understanding. She mouthed off about something else, and then turned to leave. My stomach twisted in remembrance of what I saw last night. The horrible memory plagued me, Angel's wings bloody and nasty and I had wings now. I remembered ever detail clearly.

Was that the payment for being a mutant? To suffer while just trying to protect your home? This was giving me serious doubts about ever coming here, although at the time I had nowhere else to go, probably still didn't. Not to mention I wasn't really asked, more like just jumped on a plane and _bam_! Hello, welcome to Xavier's. Gah, I hate this.

I didn't even know what 'this' was. Whatever 'this' turned out to be, if this was only the beginning, then I didn't want to have anything to do with it! I wanted to go home! I wanted my family! I wanted to live! Was that so wrong? As I left the safety of the house, and took inventory of the destroyed lawn, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted out.


	14. Night After

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 014**_

* * *

I wanted to leave the "X-Mansion", so I, being me, mentioned it to the head guy, Professor Xavier. I thought for sure he'd give me a speech about why I should stay, why I needed to defend the world, and so on. But he did something far more effective for someone my age. Instead of going into fruitless sermon (come on, stuff like that went in one ear and out the other) he just did something so convincing I stuttered out a never mind and ran for cover.

He gave me _The_ Look.

It was worse than my mom's 'don't-even-think-about-doing-it' look, or my teacher's 'shut-up-before-I-do-something-to-get-fired-for' glare, this was a look that simply said-well a lot. It was a 'get over yourself', 'don't be selfish', and tons more. It was one of those looks that anyone would cower to, I'm pretty sure this guy's _Grandma_ would have started to grovel for his forgiveness for him being bald or something silly like that.

I was about to start begging for forgiveness (why, I wasn't sure) had not D-M shown up a second after he had given _The Look_. I had chills going through me as we stood on the lawn and that's when he began to preach. And two seconds later my attention span took off on a cloud to Shangri-La. Professor, with his back to us (how rude!), went on about how this was the type of prejudice the X-men were created to fight. Also not to be scared about the happenings, they appear frequently, but usually aren't this devastating.

Do the bad guys normally knock before they attack or something?

Glancing back at the house, my eyebrows rose higher on my forehead. The house was broken, with bricks scattered around, and (I went out on a limb and guessed) blast marks were everywhere. There was a gaping hole on one of the wings. I noticed with my mouth dropping open that is was my room. _My_ room. They destroyed my room! And my Stitch doll!

I was being petty because I was trying not to think about Mr. Warren. Mr. Warren with wings like mine. Mr. Warren with wings that are hurt that could be me..._argh_! I was trying _not_ to think about him!

"Don't worry, Kerry, I assure you Warren will make a full recovery," Professor tried to be soothing, but I felt my feathers (the gray fluffy things?) ruffle. That felt funny. They were actually obeying me.

* * *

"It seems as though this is part of your mutation, which you are probably well aware of." Dr. Hank picked at my arm, were more of my normal skin was peeling off..._again_. I wish it would make up its mind! Either I was going to be black as midnight, or peach! Not both! I didn't want to end up looking like some chess board!

"What did you do this morning before your transformation happened?" He asked, looking at me over his glasses.

"Uh, I woke up to-to the uhm, thingies,"

"Sentinels."

"Yeah, I guess, and then I looked out the window," Like a true idiot. "and that thing, the uh, sentinel kinda blew up my window, and I got thrown back, my Stitch got cut up badly-sorry, and then uh, Bobby-Jer-_Iceman_ came and stopped the thing from killing me, and then I woke up in the big room,"

"Danger Room."

"That's it. That's where it started," I finished. I didn't want to recall my panic attack after seeing Mr. Warren's wings blood stained and limp. _Ack_! There I went again, thinking about the one thing I didn't want to think about!

"And during this time, you were highly emotional?"

"Well, yeah!" Whoops.

Dr. Hank chuckled, "I see. Then most likely this new 'black' form of your skin is triggered by time of emotional distress. It is a comfort to see that there is no blood during the transformation. Also, it would appear your dark skin is tougher than normal human tissue, so be grateful."

For a leather-like body? Let me write that one down as a huge 'thanks'!

"Is that it?" I questioned, hopping off the examining table. Where they hid Mr. Warren, I didn't know, but there were still traces of the scuffle from that morning. One lone feather sat on the counter, bloodied and alone. When Dr. Hank's back was turned, I became a little thief and swiped the feather, it wasn't like he would need it for any reason, would he?

I tucked it down my shirt; of course this would be when Dr. Hank decided to turn around.

"Oh, one moment Kerry, I do have one final question." I did an about-face, and smiled while the feather tickled my stomach. "About my laundry..."

Oh, _crap_.

* * *

That same night, I sat cross-legged in my-well what used to be my room. It seemed more like a balcony now that a _wall_ was missing. At least there was a nice breeze, too bad the smell latched onto the air wasn't all that great.

I sighed. This was pathetic. I sat in the ruins of my room with my poor de-fluffed Stitch doll in my lap, looking out of the hole in room was sad. There was ice, dirt, and ashes everywhere, not to mention that stink from earlier—the one I woke up with in my hair seemed to cling to everything. It didn't smell pretty. I didn't think anything could smell _pretty_, but it didn't smell pleasant.

My bed was totally shot. No sleeping there tonight. No sleeping in here tonight, but then where? I was tired! I wanted to go to bed and pretend this never happened, that I was back home—home?

My sister's e-mail!

I looked over to my computer.

There was a part of a window pane sticking out of the screen.

There went _that_ idea.

I actually had the courage to do it this time! I wanted to know what she had to say!

The door creaked open behind me; I didn't bother to turn around. What was the point of telling them to get out when the birds could come in? I guess privacy was a moot point at this time.

"Hey, kid." I should have thrown something at the owner of the voice, but I kinda owed him for earlier, even though I'd never admit it out loud. Who would? This guy was a jerk to me since I'd been here, and suddenly he turned into a jerk with a spine? Life's not fair. Why wouldn't he go away?

I heard the crunch of glass as he walked in, and the creak of my door— the only thing left intact—as he shut it. He knelt beside me, and nabbed Stitch out of my lap.

"Hey!" I shouted and tried to grab my dead toy back into my protective arms. Though, if I really _could_ have protected him, he wouldn't have fluff sticking out of his ears, which was a truly gruesome sight for a stuffed toy lover such as me.

"What's this old thing?" Bobby-Jerk asked, yanking the doll away from me every time I tried to retrieve him.

"_That_ is Stitch," I told him, gave up, and crossed my arms while tipping my nose a bit higher than it should have been.

"I think 'Trashbag' would be a better name," he replied before he flipped the doll at me.

"It's not like it's _his_ fault it was that...that thing's." I protested, a shiver ran down my spine. The glowing eyes in a human's face. It was not natural, yet it had _hair_. Who would care enough to put hair on a machine?

"Right," Bobby-Jerk let that word hang in the air for a moment before opening his big mouth again, "So you just going to sit in here all night in a pow-wow of pity?"

"No," I replied dryly, "I was thinking of doing a rain dance and the drowning myself in it later."

"Ooh, so there is a part of you that is smart," Bobby-jerk stood up, and then added "too bad it's your mouth."

I turned around, scowled at him, and promptly stuck out my tongue. What a punk and to think I was going to be a little more appreciative to him! Well, not anymore! What a _jerk_!

He _smirked, _and put a hand on my head.

"Good to know you haven't lost your spunk," Bobby-jerk said and before I could process his mood swings, he was gone.

One eyebrow rose while I tried to understand what had happened. Thankfully, I didn't get to think _too_ much (very dangerous for my health) because there was another knock on my door. Why they felt they had to knock was beyond my understanding.

Then the door creaked open again, I was ready to start yelling at the _jerk_ (because to think of him otherwise would have screwed with my head even more than it was messed with) for making a reappearance, but as I turned with a mouthful of words to shove down his throat (tired, upset, and cookie-less girls weren't very nice) I spotted Sam instead.

"Hey, you're stayin' in Daisy's room tonight, if that's all right with you," Sam drawled. On D-M the accent was slightly nerve grating, on Sam it was downright cute. But it wasn't like I _like_ him or anything. _No_, I was smarter than that. But dang, that boy smiled and I started to blush.

Oh heck no, I would _not_ start crushing on him!


	15. DM's Roommate

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 015**_

* * *

This was worse than a Teletubby, Barney, and Blues Clues month long marathon on Nickelodeon.

This was worse than standing between the Jenny Craig drop-outs and the nearest candy bar.

This was-this was in a league of its own.

And sadly, I was the only one in the league playing for keeps with my sanity.

A whole week in Daisy Meagon Bloome's room and it would do it to the best of anyone. I should have known I would be strangled by her cookie (yum...) like sweetness, but her odd obsessions and scheduled living rivaled the Cookie-Bandit-Summers! The first night I went in there I just stood in the doorway, clutched the things that had survived the attack (me, a small bag of clothes, and my de-fluffed Stitch), and gawked like a tourist into her room.

Despite our shopping trip when she bought all black bed things and curtains, the room screamed _teenager_ or, more accurately, _teenage_ _girl_! There were stuffed animals everywhere, clothes jammed into the closet, and posters of every chick-flick movie since 2008. Also, she had an extensive, yet strangely impressive, collection of posters of all the boy bands I knew, and some I didn't. Her CDs where everywhere! _Twilight_ played on the television (how come I never got one? TV, not the movie) while one of the previously mentioned boy bands blasted through the radio.

I should have made a break for it then.

In fact, I started to back up thinking that the Rec. room couch was a blessing compared to this teen magazine inspired nightmare, but before I could run , I heard a high pitched '_Hi_!' ring in my ears.

"Guess your stayin' with me!" She chirped, bounced past me and into her room. "Well come on, I don't know about you, but I am _so_ tired." D-M scrunched up her face and then started to sing with the song on the radio.

I scrunched up my face, too, and stuck out my tongue at her back. This was only day _one_ and if the words 'let's do each other's hair' came from her mouth, I was going back to my room and sleep in the closet.

* * *

"Up and attem, lazy daisy!" was the first noise I heard, my groan of disgust was the second. "Got to wake up! Up! Up! Pop up! Up! Up!" the annoying thing sang. Cracking an eye open to the nauseatingly cheery, sun-filled room I narrowed in on the thing that woke me up.

It was an alarm clock, shaped like a daisy dancing in a little plastic pot.

Leave it to a girl named Daisy-Mae to have the stupidest things on earth and for me to have the worst luck on earth to be stuck with her. I yawned from where I lay on the floor, rolled over, and covered my face with the loaned blanket from Miss Rogue that smelled like magnolias. Guess you can take the girl out of the country, and well, so on.

I didn't hear her give a protest to being woken up so early; instead she just sighed and from what I guessed, left her bed. If she was nice, D-M wouldn't bother me, if she was _smart_, she wouldn't bother me.

"_Keeerrrrrrreeeee,_" she sang loudly.

Okay, so she was _not_ nice and not the brightest star in the sky.

"_Wwwhaaaaaaat_?" I mocked and peeked from under my cover.

"Time to get up up, up!" Daisy-Mae out, crooned as she skipped and jumped around her room, getting ready for the day. I swear she's not natural. She's like a monster that killed with kindness!

"No."

"Come on! Scott's not gonna like you sleepin' in," she chided.

I had to literally _bite_ my tongue to keep the thought about what the Cookie-Nazi could shove and _where_.

"No."

One eyebrow rose, followed by a smirk. I've never seen her smirk before. I don't think I like it. It creeped me out.

"Oh come on, you want to meet the _guys_ don'tcha?"

My tiny kitten of curiosity reared her trouble-causing head, and within one heartbeat was a roaring lioness of need-to-know knowledge.

"Guys?" Come on, I was still a teenage girl.

Again, Daisy smirked, crossed her arms in triumph, and looked down at me.

"Thought that would getcha."

* * *

She's a dirty trickster that was being booted down the 'like' list in my book. No, I wasn't referring to the devilish Daisy; I was talking about Mrs. Jean. Just as I thought I could trust a person, the woman went and pulled something like _that_ on me.

"Come help me make lunch," she said, with a smile. A smile that made me think she was being nice and honest."It'll be fun."

Like a true, trusting moron, I agreed. I was only too happy to _not_ be in D-M's presence or to have to go to the laundry room again. So around eleven thirty I tiptoed into the kitchen where Mrs. Jean and Mr. Remy were giving each other the patent 'glare-of-death'.

Oh, I tried to turn tail and run, but they didn't let that happen. Mrs. Jean's eyebrow twitched as she looked over at Mr. Remy, who glared back at her. I swear I thought they were going to start devouring each other in a second's time.

"Kerry," came a stiff acknowledgement that led to proof that Mrs. Jean was defiantly Mr. Summers' (the cookie stealer!) other half. "I want you to try this," she commanded as she shoved a fork with a piece of meat on the end of it at me.

"Now wait, _chere_, dere's no need to force feed her dat, I'm sure she'd rather something _good_." Mr. Remy-well, I hoped he had a last will and testament.

"_Gam-_bit," Mrs. Jean bit his codename (?) in two parts, and then seemed to get an evil idea, "Fine. Let her try yours first, after all 'save the best for last' right?"

Next time I say to 'run' I had better listen to me. I had two forks thrust at me, and like a true dork, took them out of their hands, and did not look up. I could _feel_ their gazes resting on me. Talk about a no-win situation.

And the ultimate loser?

Me.

I won't say who I let win, because it's obvious in my punishment.

* * *

A day later, I awoke before that stupid daisy (just _pick_ one of them and you wouldn't be wrong) by Miss Rogue. She said just because I didn't have a room that was intact, did not mean I could stop my training. So once again, I was standing in the gym, yawning, and trying to stand up straight without swaying.

"Nice to see you're a morning person."

"Mr. Warren?" I yelped and looked around for where the owner of the voice was hiding. Sure enough, there he was. In the corner next to a crutch, lounged in a foldout chair, and just staring at me.

He was okay? Taking in his sight, including his wings, I decided that, no, he wasn't all better. Instead, Mr. Warren's wings were wrapped up tightly in several places. I shivered despite myself, as my wings shifted around me slightly as if to keep me warm.

I was about to say-_wait a second_! These stupid things were obeyed me..._again_?

"Looks like you're gaining more control," Mr. Warren pointed out, stood up, and walked over to me. What, was the crutch is just for show?

Now, had I been smart, I would have laughed it off and said that yes indeed I was learning how to control my wings and wasn't it a lovely day? But did I? _Noooo_. That would have been _way_ to smart on the Kerry-intell-o-meter.

"But I-I didn't tell it anything-they did it on-their own?"

It took about two seconds before the man burst out laughing, "On their own?"

"Y-yeah," I stammered, feeling my cheeks start to burn. Why couldn't I be all black again, at least no one could tell when I blushed! As it was, my skin was already coming back (the peach color) on my legs and arms. My face didn't even peel this time (man, when did I get so casual about skin falling off?).

"Kerry, 'they'" Mr. Warren said, still trying not to laugh about my stupid presumptions (spending time with Dr. Hank is really paying off). "_Only_ 'listen' to you. Maybe you've been thinking about it too hard."

What, did I have trails of smoke coming out of my ears?

"How often do you tell your arm to rise so you can get something off the shelf?"

I stared at him blankly.

"Never, you really don't _think_ about what you do, you just do it, right?"

I quirked an eyebrow, "Right?"

"Same thing with the wings, you don't _think_ or _tell_ them what to do, you just do it."

Easy for him to say, but not for me to do. When he got closer to me (oh, yeah, he started a speech I tuned out) I noticed that the bandages where speckled with a brown color. B-b-blood? I felt queasy; the feather I nabbed from Dr. Hank's was safe inside my broken and fluffless Stitch doll in D-M's room.

"...and then you bend your leg..." I yawned in boredom, Mr. Warren ignored this apparently. "...and bust a bottle of wine over the boat..." Yeah yeah-_huh?_!

"Come again?" I asked, the last part caught me off guard.

"I didn't think you were paying attention." _He_ then gave me a death glare. _What_ was up with these people and their stares lately?

"I'll listen, I'll listen!"

"Good. There's going to be a quiz over what I say later."

I laughed nervously. He didn't. Ut-uh, guess he was serious.

He was.

I flunked the quiz.


	16. 3 new guys

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 016**_

* * *

"Tell me about your family."

Again, I just stared at him as if he grew hair. I _thought_ that was what he said before, but I wasn't too certain. Now I knew. The man was crazy.

"Why?" I asked, finding it hard to sit still. With the wings, I more or less either had to lean forward while straddling a chair or prop up against something.

"During and after the conflict a few days ago, you seemed to be heavily occupied with thoughts about your father. I would like to help you sort through any feelings and conflicts you might be experiencing," Professor Xavier clarified, but it still didn't hold enough sympathy I thought it should. Maybe it was just the way this guy was. Who knew?

Another thought was: why should you care?

I guessed I didn't think quietly as I thought I did, because the Professor looked up at me and sighed.

"I can understand that the past few months have been difficult for you. Coming to terms with being a mutant is never an easy thing to do."

Sort of like dying, you only had to do it once.

"You're wrong," I kept forgetting to be _quiet_ while thinking. Maybe I should have started _shouting_ while I thought, maybe then I wouldn't have people taking part in my internal conversations. With me and my brain fighting all the time I didn't need another team on the field. "Being a mutant isn't something you simply have to endure once. It is something you will be reminded of every time you wake up and everywhere you go."

This man would never make it on a suicide hotline; the people would end up doing the opposite of what he wanted them to do (Unless he pulled that 'I'm-in-charge-do-as-I-say' voice on them) because quite frankly, at being sympathetic, this man sucked.

"I thought you wanted to talk about my family, not me," I pondered out loud just to keep from creeping out if I thought it and he answered again.

Professor observed me with one eyebrow arched, which I might add looked funny on a bald guy. Like his hairy eyebrows were trying to run to the top of his skull to cover it up or something.

"What is it you want to know?"

"Tell me about your mother."

I sighed.

"My mom's name is Heather Lynn Carthy-D'mon. She's going on thirty-seven."

"That's a start." Then the man _smiled_. "What does she do?"

"She's a hairstylist. She owns her own salon and everything, called 'E-clips'." If we were going to play twenty questions, this was going to take a _very_ long time.

"I see." Professor then touched his scalp, "So I would never visit her."

I let out a tiny, itty bit laugh. Maybe this guy wasn't _so_ bad. Even though he shoved me into the _male_ dorm and all. "Guess not."

"How does she feel about mutants?"

Right to final death! I didn't have to think about it. Who would? She kicked me out and threatened to call the cops on me the day I came home with the X-Men.

"You were there," I replied flatly.

"Yes, I remember her reluctance to accept the changes you were going through," as was I, let's not forget that! "but I was curious as to why she was so fearful of mutants. Do you remember any reason why she'd feel so strongly against them to the point of rejecting her own daughter?"

Wow, this day had started off okay and was quickly going downhill. There's nothing like someone reminding you that your mother didn't want anything to do with you. Thank you, Professor Xavier; I was going to go drown myself in a lake now.

"Ask her." But, oh yeah! She's not talking to me! _Duh_!

"What about your father?" Smooth, real smooth change of topic, Professor.

"He's dead," I stated matter-of-factly.

"How did he die?"

"Shot."

"Was he a police officer?"

"My dad was a carpenter." I gave him a heartbeat to ask if he was shot with a nail gun, but he didn't. I don't like talking about my dad, but did this man get it by now? Nope. He continued to pester and question about my dad. I was pretty tight lipped about the details of my father, and the reason I got so into mutants after he died. It wasn't until I was finally let out of the office and the 20 questions game that I shivered. My Dad died because of mutants.

Because he didn't like them either.

Because he was part of some faction known as the F.o.H. or Friends of Humanity, pretty corny title, huh?

* * *

_She had cookies_!

Real, authentic, and gooey-to-the-touch cookies! They were within my grasp, so close yet so far away! I just walked downstairs (which, if I was a cartoon character I would have floated in via the smell) when I saw those heavenly delicacies strutting by on a plate in the hands of Mrs. Jean. She must have caught my thoughts (or heard my eyes pop out of their sockets, whatever it was) because she turned momentarily to show me just what a huge plate of cookies it was, and then disappeared into the den.

"Ker-bear!" Annoying nickname #2, invented by D-M. At least it was better than Bobby's 'Grace' remarks.

"Hello," I answered, hopefully in a voice that let her know I was not appreciative of my nickname.

"You must have sniffed them out!" She continued in her ever so happy way. D-M reminded me of Lila off of _Hey, Arnold!_ (yes, I'm a closet cartoon watcher) the way nothing effects her.

"Yeah, it's pretty hard not to."

I followed the smell of the cookies, halfway listening to the girl as she carried on about something or another. "Smells so good."

"Personally, Ah think they put on too much aftershave, but whoever has the cologne on smells pretty darn good."

Huh? When'd cookies shave and put on smells? They smelt good enough already. In fact, I tried to follow them into the room, only to find the flippin' door was _locked_! I heard something from the other side of the door before something talked into my head.

/_I would let you have some, but since you seem to prefer Gambit's cooking over mine.../_

_Ahh_! The woman was evil! I didn't know if she caught my little dark cloud of a reply, but I heard a woman laugh. I felt like kicking down the door and throwing a fit like a spoiled two-year-old. I would have, really, I would've! (Okay, maybe not.) I said before that I don't mind getting bossed around as long as I can stand the person and at some point in time I can pitch a fit that would make a French poodle jealous.

At some point D-M disappeared and someone else came, I only knew this after they said something.

"Trying to make another explosive entrance are you, Grace?"

I let out an _'eep'_ as my wings sucker punched him.

I kid you not.

They shot back from my surprise, and knocked that joker man!

"Oh man!" I guess D-M wasn't as gone as I thought. I turned around to see Bobby-Jerk sprawled across the floor with his head propped against the staircase. I decided to be surprised and sorry later, as for the moment, I just burst out laughing as the man grumbled and rose to his feet. He tripped on his own feet but caught his balance quickly enough.

"What'd I do to you?" Bobby-Jerk asked, rubbing the back of his head. Of course Daisy, the eternal good-girl, was helping him balance.

"Want I should make a list?" I sassed, snickering as he rolled his eyes. I didn't get a cookie, but at least I got something sweet—revenge. As small and pathetic as it seemed, it was worth it.

* * *

Banging my head against the sink lip hurt, but it didn't stop me from doing it.

I wonder if I stuck my head in the dishwater would I drown first or would choke on my own lunch? I despised doing dishes. _Never _had I _ever_ had to do so many plates, forks, cups, and everything else in one _day_ than now. It was a chore at home, but man, at_ my_ family knew how to use a cup more than once for the same drink!

And as an added bit of sadistic humor, Mrs. Jean made sure I was standing around doing dishes when she rinsed off the plate where my beloved, much missed sugary sweetness once sat then left it on the counter to be cleaned. I know everyone has a little nasty streak in them, but come on! This was just plain cruel! First deprived of cookies, being called 'too fat' to have them, and now his _wife_ was out to get me! It's like there were two sets of people walking around here! One was good, nice, and kind to everything (bridging on Snow Whiteness) and the other was the evil twin who was usually locked up and only let out on holidays.

Except Bobby-Jerk, he's a jerk through and through. No two ways about it. And as for D-M, I have finally decided that she was not real, but a battery operated marshmallow.

All I needed now was a big fire to prove my theory.

I needed a life.

And something told me I wouldn't find it in the murky dishwater, but what else could I do? Laundry? _Riiiiight_.

After the huge uproar about Mr. Logan wearing Sam's pink bunny boxers, and Bobby-Jerk's Hawaiian print shirts all being bleached into tie dye wannabes, oh, and I should not forget to mention that Mr. Summers found out rather painfully that spandex can indeed shrink. (It helps if you wash it about four times in hot water with lots of soup and softener). As punishment for my reckless revenge (Professor's words, _not_ mine) my allowance was suspended.

I didn't even know I _got_ an allowance that _could_ be suspended.

On top of that cheerful note, I was also forced to do the dishes, and Bobby-Jerk (who was still grounded, sheesh, it seemed like it took a lot to get these people upset, but when you do they can be some real meanies) got the laundry duty. _And_ as a 'let's not have this happen again' type thing, I was allowed out of the house once a weekend—to go grocery shopping.

To go grocery shopping with Bobby-Jerk. With lists.

I started to bang my head against the sink lip again.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Oh yeah, just perfect. The _only_ person to be weird enough to walk in here would have to be Sam.

"Wishing for the end."

"Uh-huh," there was a pause in my head banging, "When you get finished with that, Professor wants to see everyone in his study at three."

Oh, peachy perfect.

I continued to bang my head.

* * *

By the time I finished the dishes, went to plop down on the mat I used in D-M's room it was three. So, I was dragged down the steps to where all the newbies were being introduced. It felt like the first day of summer camp, you know when all the counselors were nice, and the owner was actually able to be found outside their air conditioned office. Since I rarely saw the whole household together (and without wearing spandex) I decided to attempt to name them all.

There were some mystery boys in the middle, and of course there was Mr. I'm-going-to-weigh-you-at-the-end-of-the-month-Summers, along with his vengeful vixen, Mrs. Jean. Professor was busy looking all important, Miss Munroe was smiling at one of the boys while Miss Rogue glared at Mr. Remy. Dr. Hank was yawning, as Bobby-Jerk punched him in the shoulder playfully. Sam was shaking one of the other boy's hands; D-M was drooling over every one of them. Mr. Maggot had apparently found Monet tolerable, or vice versa, Jubilee was talking Mr. Logan's ears off. Mr. Warren was on a cell phone, and then there was this big black guy.

I didn't remember seeing him around before, I mean, it's not exactly as if he would be easy to hide. He was _huge_ (tall, not fat).

"Ker-_re,_" Daisy-Mae shouted, waving me down.

This girl did not know how to be discrete for the life of her! I guessed she didn't think I moved fast enough because she grabbed my arm to haul me to the mystery guys. "You've got to meet these guys! They're great!"

Like I had a choice.

"This is Adrian Corbo," she introduced yanked me to a rather quiet looking guy. I guessed he was around our age, if not younger. "He's from Canada, isn't that cool?"

"Hi," was all he said, and then found his feet interesting.

Lugged over to the next person, "And this is Chris Bradley." _This_ guy looked like he could kill anyone at any given moment. He was _ticked_. "He was here before."

"Humph," Was his salutation, as I was pulled to the next person I stuck my tongue out at the guy and muttered 'jerk' under my breath.

"And this is Adam Burman."

This guy looked like a grunge lover. Messy hair, in style sun glasses, loose-fitting pants, and a baggy t-shirt with a band's name scrawled on it. "He's like a genius."

"I wouldn't go that far," Adam's smile ruined his confession. Dr. Hank (bless him!) showed up at that time, but before he got two words out, Adam was all over him. "_Oh_ _wow_! Dr. McCoy, it's a real honor to meet you sir!" Burman started to gush all over the furry doctor, and you could almost _feel_ Dr. Hank's ego grow.

As soon as D-M left me, I was going to flee. I didn't care where as long as it wasn't in such a big crowd. But before I could escape to the kitchen, or anywhere else, I felt a huge hand on my shoulder.

"You're the other new girl," came a deep voice.

I swallowed. Did every one practice the art of fear in this household? If they didn't watch it, I'd literally jump out of my skin again! I turned and smiled impishly at this _huge,_ hulking mountain of a man with his hand on my shoulder. "Y-yes, sir."

"Kerry D'mon?'

"Y-yes sir." My goosebumps wouldn't even come to the surface; they had goosebumps of their own to worry about!

"I thought so," Was all he said, turned around, and walked away.

I later found out (through the social butterfly, D-M) that the man's name was Lucas Bishop and he was from the future.

My reply, _whatever_!

People from the future, what next, clones from another dimension?

Get real!


	17. Flying Disturbances

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 017**_

* * *

_Aww, heck no_!

No way in this world was this happening no way in the world was I going to do this! Uhn-uh! _NO_!

"Let go, Kerry," Mr. Warren repeated the command I had ignored for the past five minutes. He could say it all he wanted, there was absolutely no way in heck I was letting go. And why, one might ask, was I so unwilling to follow orders?

_Because we were four thousand feet in the air!_

It was the first day of my flying lessons, since my feathers were all in and 'ready to go'. Yeah, well, just because you've got the equipment doesn't mean you should test drive it (a direct quote from my mother during _the_ talk)! Though this was not what she was talking about it was working for me now.

"How are you going to learn if you don't try?"

"How am I supposed to _live_ after I _do_ try?" I shot back, my arms tightened around his neck as he held me. He was doing these loopy air move things that, if I had my eyes opened would have made me dizzy.

"You need to learn to trust your wings."

I shook my head 'no'. I'd trust them all right- _on the ground_. Mr. Warren already tried taking his support away, which only got me to almost choke him to death and burst his eardrum.

People were meant to fly in planes, with a trained pilot, and a stewardess who gave you a tiny glass of ice with a drop of soda. _That's_ how it's supposed to be, _not_ me by myself soaring like a monster bird. _Not happening_!

_Finally_ after much crying, whining, and screaming, Mr. Warren saw it my way and brought us down to earth once more. My death grip slackened and he let me down nicely.

"Kerry, you've really got to try to fly. I know this is your first day, but the sooner you learn the better you'll feel about your mutation."

Yack yack yack, I didn't care to hear any inspiring words at this point; I was too busy gripping the railing to the patio, and gasping for breath. These people were nuts! _Bonkers_!

"You better get going, or you're going to be late for Hank."

I nodded and not so gracefully made my way back into the house; at least I knew Dr. Hank would never try to kick me into the sky.

* * *

"I hope you don't mind our extra, Miss D'mon." Dr. Hank smiled and started to pull out the X-rays I had taken earlier that week. The 'extra' was Adam; he was the social one of the new bunch. He was also the brain-a-maniac of the group. All this was second hand information; Daisy Mae saw guys and apparently was boy crazy enough to go after anything that wore cologne.

"You're-Kerry right?"

"Yeah."

Adam seemed happy with his own memory and nodded as if to congratulate himself. I rolled my eyes.

"Now, Kerry, if you would please get on the scale."

I glared at the offensive piece of metal and plastic. I am female, and therefore _hate_ scales with a passion. Ever since I was 12 I have avoided these things like the plague. But Dr. Hank apparently didn't understand the look of hate I gave the annoying, _lying_ tell all scale because he just looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

I stepped on it, arms folded. This was _so_ embarrassing. This was the _worst_ part of the checkups. I asked him if he could nix it, and you know what he did? He _laughed_ at me as though I was telling a joke.

"Let's see." I rolled my eyes, and glared as he moved the little weights around. "This _is_ interesting."

"What is it Dr. McCoy?" Adam asked. This boy was stealing _my_ lines!

"Hmmm, it's seems as though you are still losing weight, Kerry," Dr. Hank answered, peering over his tiny squarish glasses. "Do you know why you would be losing weight?"

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Let me see, 1) Mr. Summers had taken it upon himself to take away _all_ my cookies, 2) that same drill sergeant put _me_ on a diet, 3) I just had the living fluff scared out of me, and 4) I lost my _skin_. That's what I thought on the inside; on the outside I shrugged my shoulders.

"We were afraid of this," Dr. Hank muttered, guiding me back to the bed.

"Afraid of what?" Haha! I beat Adam to the question! The black haired boy just nodded in his want to know as well.

Picking up some of the X-rays, Dr. Hank flipped the X-Ray reader machine (?) on and stuck pictures of my insides on it.

"It seems you're losing calcium deposits in your skeletal structure." He then did the typical chin grab/rub thing as he thought. Adam was almost drooling over the X-rays. He's cute, but a science nut.

"Is that like osteoporosis?" I asked. I'm not a science buff, but even I watch those commercials about illnesses. This seemed to be news to at least Dr. Hank who usually had to baby term all his lectures for me to understand.

"Not quiet. You're bones aren't weakening as they would with osteoporosis. The inner tissue is no longer there. I thought this would happen, but could not be for sure until they stabilized." Dr. Hank rubbed his temples in thought, Adam then took this opportunity to chime in his own conclusion.

"Like a bird's bones, correct, Dr. McCoy?" Thank you, Mr. Wizard. As if wings weren't enough I also was getting the bones of a bird? What next, was I going to start eating those tiny little seeds from the pet store-or even worse-worms! _Ick_!

"Yes."

"How did you know this was going to happen?" And why the _heck_ didn't he tell me? It's just my body and my life, though I didn't have control of either anymore I still wanted to get updates in case I did get put back in charge of them.

Dr. Hank sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Warren has similar bone structure. Though they are hollow, you're bones are almost unbreakable." That was good I guessed. "And as an added bonus, you will weigh less than a normal girl your size and build."

_That_ was good to hear! Maybe I could finally get a cookie now that my weight went down, and would be for the rest of my life! Maybe if I was lucky that Cookie-vulture would _finally_ let me have a cookie!

* * *

"Kerry! Can you get the boys for dinner?"

I sighed and was about to say no, but remembered D-M was 'afraid' of going into the testosterone filled hall. I could completely understand, their egos were so big that I nearly got smothered when two or more passed me in the hall. What was it with guys and their need to be 'alpha male' of a group? (Oh, and FYI, I was locked out of D-M and my room, therefore, _hello_ rec. room couch and TV-even if it _was_ the Discovery channel.)

The first door was Chris', who seemed to never leave his room. My type of guy. No, I didn't mean it like _that_. Only that I liked to hide from the general public of this house-especially the mind readers. They just went so far beyond creepy. This guy was on one side of my room, and as I approached his door, I didn't have any doubts that we were going to have problems.

His music was blasting. It was so hard and heavy that the door shook in its frame. Was he deaf or just trying to ignore everyone? I banged on Chris' door for the better part of a minute with no response from the supposedly living person inside of the room.

_Finally_ I did the brave (more of a stupid, but brave just sounded better) thing and just opened the door up.

Apparently the boy was afraid of the light; his room was pitch black except the computer screen. And that's where he was, pounding away on his keyboard with his back to me.

"_Ex-cuse me_!"

_That_ caught his attention as the music came to an abrupt halt, and the boy twirled in his chair so fast that it was a good thing he stood up or Chris would have flown out of the thing for sure.

"What do you want?" He demanded, marched to the door, and grabbed its edge which made me step back into the hall. He was taller than me and, uh, broader so as up close as he was, he was slightly intimidating.

"Dinners ready," I announced, _still_ trying to be nice. Remember D-M said I wasn't? Remember I said that I would prove her wrong? (Yeah, I barely remembered it either)

"Don't come into my room for something so _stupid_," Chris spat, "In fact, don't come into my room _period_." With that he slammed the door in my face.

I think I just meet today's 'special' friend. Growling out _really_ bad words in dog language, I stomped myself over to Adrian's door and banged on it. That Chris punk was going to be a true test of my 'be-nice' attitude. Unlike the previous idgit, I heard an instant reply from inside this guy's room.

Following instructions I let myself in.

I should have told him through the door.

Apparently he didn't know that girl's were allowed on the hall.

When he looked over at me, I know what he saw: me with big eyes and mouth hanging open in shock. We both turned beet red, and while Adrian scampered to find _something_, I did an about face, announced that dinner was ready, and quickly left.

Another mystery I needed to investigate on a Saturday night (when I didn't have anything else to do) was learn why guys loved to hang out in nothing but their underwear.

* * *

They just didn't give up!

It had been three days since Mr. Warren attempted to get me to let go of him while we were _really_ high up. He tried every day to make me let go.

I cried and refused every time.

Then they ganged up on me.

It was the fifth day of flight lessons when I met up with Mr. Warren, Miss Rogue, Sam, and Miss Munroe.

One against four, no _way_ was that fair!

"What's going on?" I asked, suspicious of the group.

"Today's the day," Miss Rogue proclaimed with this _smile_ that sent shivers down my spine.

"We're goin' to get you to fly, Ker," Sam announced as he began to lift into the air. It was really cool too; he flew when this gold flamey stuff surrounded him. He looked like a fire cracker. What wasn't so cool was when _I_ began to be lifted in the air.

"_What the heck?!"_

I tried to grasp on to anything, but without success. Miss Rogue's arm came from nowhere and put a death grip on me (and I put one on her, too).

"You must learn to trust yourself."

"Next to you all, that's the _last_ person I trust at the moment!" I argued, tried to climb on top of Miss Rogue as Mr. Warren started to flap his wings. Sam grabbed my other arm, and they began to go higher.

"Don't be so rigid. Be loose, limber, let your instincts take over."

My instincts were screaming that I should get on the ground, where all the _sane_ people were!

"Come on girl, everyone's nervous at first, but then you get used to it," Miss Rogue attempted to encourage me.

I dug my nails harder into her skin.

"We'll catch you if you fall."

_Fall?! _ I didn't even _plan_ on letting go! There was _no_ way I was going anywhere, but up. And that wasn't even by my doing! Wasn't this against my rights or something?!

"I'll call upon the wind to help you, child. Warren will instruct you. All you have to do is let Samuel and Rogue go."

Oh like _that_ was happening!

"Trust me, Storm, the logical way doesn't work on her."

Thank you, Mr. Warren. Sam and Miss Rogue told me to open my wings, I complied. As long as they didn't let go.

Apparently, they missed this bargaining statement.

"Bombs away," was the warning I got before Miss Rogue pried my fingers from her arm at the same time Sam let go.

They both smiled.

I screamed.

I didn't fly that day and I didn't hit the ground, apparently Mr. Warren caught me in time.

Somewhere between being released and the ground I passed out.

They said they'd try again later.

* * *

It was a few days later when I heard something rather interesting; something rather disturbing to tell the truth. You ever walk into a conversation, or have a conversation walk up to you that you just _know_ you weren't supposed to hear, like ever? As though you have the perfect hiding spot and the people are part of a play and give you the next dramatics of your life.

That's what happened with me.

I was lying on D-M's floor flipping through some of her romance books. You know the type that have the big strong muscular hero on front and looked like he's about to laugh or do something inappropriate while holding a busty babe about to fall out of her dress? She had around fifty of those little buggers.

Her door was cracked, opened about a foot or so, and I was where they couldn't see me from the hall. Miss Oreo lives in the attic, and must have been going to her room or something, and decided to 'travel' with Miss Rogue, because they were the two whose conversation I didn't think I was supposed to hear.

"…Kerry" my name was what caught my attention, "doesn't know yet?"

Thick Southern accent equaled Miss Rogue.

"No, the Professor is trying to get the child to open up before he lets her know about it."

Slight accent I couldn't place for a million dollars, but nice voice with regal words meant Miss Munroe.

"Ah can remember muh Daddy throwing me out of our house, but he didn't chase after me," Miss Rogue continued, "Ah think it's just horrible that this woman would rat out her own daughter to the F.o.H."

Huh? That stupid group my dad was a part of?

"Yes, and I fear that Kerry is not going to take this information in stride." A pause, a sigh, and then, "To think a woman could try to have her own daughter captured by those bigots."

Own daughter..?

Wouldn't that mean my mom?

The woman who cried for three hours after she hit a squirrel with her car? The lady who gave _birth_ to me? The one who held me and my sister when the news about our dad came, the one who dried our tears? _That_ woman!

I knew she was upset with me for becoming one of them, but she wouldn't-couldn't!

/_Kerry, I'd like to see you in my office immediately_./

It was the Professor.

I guessed he wanted to tell me something.

That cruel idiotic heartless gargoyle!

* * *

How was I supposed to leave when I couldn't even move?

I'd been sitting on a bench in the hall for almost two hours. My tears stopped while I was in Professor's office. Absorbing the information like a sponge, but never responding. I was right when I thought he had some things to tell me. My mother was the one who sent those creatures to the mansion, and sort of had proof of that.

Those creatures, the X-people said, used to be humans, now they were more or less androids. Since they were human, they had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was near Acola, Washington. My hometown. They weren't all from the town, but from the same or local counties.

While Professor listed the reasons for their theory that my mom was the cause of the attack, Mrs. Jean did her best to try and comfort me. She even tried to touch me, like wrap an arm around my shoulders. I quite literally told her to 'bug off' with my look.

I was upset; I had a right to be rude.

Why was all this happening to me?

My fingers were interwoven behind my head as my whole body was slumped foreword. I didn't even hear him come up to where I was. The first indication he was there was when he touched my shoulder, it startled me. It was late and I thought most everyone was in bed. I wanted to glare at him and give him the same treatment I had to Mrs. Jean for touching me, but I didn't.

Instead, I just started to cry. He, in turn, got on his knees and hugged me, letting me cry on his shirt. He put a hand on the back of my head and slowly rubbed my back in a comforting fashion.

Later, I would compare myself to one of those busty babes of D-M's (minus the busty and babe part) because I felt like a stupid little girl grasping for a life line on this guy's shirt.

Not my idea of a hero, heck, not even my idea of a friend…noticed I didn't mention names?

* * *

The next day I was excused from my morning workout, which made me feel a _little_ better. But a cookie would have made me feel _real_ good, depressed, but good none the less. The next day, life continued as normal, and no, my room was not ready yet. I was hurt, but there was a stronger part of me that simply refused to believe Professor Xavier. Maybe this was some twisted way of trying to get me to cut all ties with my _real_ family and take this odd ball group as my _new_ family.

I wanted to read my sister's e-mail. Maybe it read something about why mom might have done this, if she _did_ indeed do anything. I guess I could read it on any computer, but I didn't want anyone else to know about it. I didn't want them to ask about what Darcy had to write. I didn't want them to use it against her.

I also wanted them to _stop_ asking me: Do you want to talk about it?

If I _wanted_ to talk about it, they'd know. I'd be screaming at the top of my lungs with a rainbow of words about my thoughts on this whole thing, but I didn't want to talk about it. No matter how many times I said this, they didn't seem to buy it. Or they'd finish it with 'you know where to find me if you change your mind.'

As weird as a comparison this is for me to make, I had the mannerisms of a hurt animal. If hurt, let me go off by myself and heal, don't follow me and for crying out loud don't ask me to discuss it. If followed and pestered by those who just 'wanted to help' I was expected to go for blood. I would bite heads off; I might attach it back to the neck with a string of apologies later but not right away.

Until I feel better, quite frankly m'dear, _leave me alone_!

It's hard to _be_ alone in a house with almost twenty some people coming and going all at once. And let me not forget that I had to share a bedroom with little Miss Happy Personality. She called me pessimistic; I called her a fruit cake. She told me to look on the bright side, I told her to join the dark side. She demanded that I apologize; I demanded she drop dead.

Yes, I ended up apologizing for those comments. I warned her I didn't want to talk, but it was my fault for being rude, naturally. _Excuse_ me for having a broken heart, being in self-denial, and not having a mother to call or curl up next to and make the bad people go away.

I missed my mom, and all this speculation about her being a 'Mother Dearest' just made me want to go to her and beg for the truth.

Maybe I would.

Maybe I wouldn't.

Maybe I'd get a life and stop thinking so negatively.

_Ack_! That mutant marshmallow was starting to affect my thinking!


	18. Getting to know TOO much

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 018_**

* * *

I wasn't a happy person.

Not only was the information of my mother's trying to kill me weighing heavily on my shoulders, but I was still stuck in Never-Never land with the spawn of Peter Pan and Tinker Bell (otherwise known as Daisy Meagon). A few more days passed awkwardly between me and everyone else, some ignored it, some _still_ 'wanted to talk about it' and others just avoided me. It wasn't like I had cooties or anything! Of course Adrian had a pretty good reason to avoid me.

_But_ now we were all sitting outside in the middle of they considered the backyard (the place between the woods and the mansion) it was a dreaded 'getting to know everyone' activity, lead by— you guessed it— Group Activity Leader Summers.

"As you know, there are a few new faces here." How would the new faces know who was new and who was old? "We decided to dedicate this day to getting to know the people of your future team…"

This was when I got distracted. I would have thought by now that these people realized that long speeches didn't work for me. I tuned out, but this time I was rolling the word 'team' around in my head like a mad bouncy ball.

There were a series of groans from some, and I snapped back to attention.

"This is _re-_tard_-ed_," Chris muttered, and Jubilee popped her gum in reply. I had no clue what he was talking about. The one bad thing about zoning out is by the time I zoned back in, I had no _clue_ what everyone else was complaining about.

I decided to play it cool for the time being and leaned over to D-M, "What is going on?"

"We're getting paired up, and have to do some games with them," she stopped her explanation when Chris let out another protest. "You two are alike, maybe you'll get paired with him."

"_Oh gee_, thanks."

"All right gang, here's how it's going to be broken down. Remember; spend 15 minutes with each person." When did this turn into day camp? "I'll pair you off and let you know when to rotate."

"Kerry and Jubilee, Monet and Adam…" My name was spoken, therefore I didn't listen anymore. Jubilee rolled her eyes and got up, waved me over to follow, and we both plopped down about ten feet away from the group.

I picked at the grass as she started, "So, like, what's your full name?"

"Kerry Michelle D'mon." I paused, and looked at my watch. Fourteen minutes and thirty seconds to go. "And you?"

"Jubilation Lee. Is Kerry short for anything?"

"Nope."

Silence decided to take part of the conversation, at least until Jubilee spoke up again, "Who's your favorite person?"

_That_ caught me off guard, but this was a great way to learn what to pester the other people about. Except D-M. I didn't want to know more than I had to about her sugary self. Well, her and Chris. Wait, no, her, Chris, and Bobby-Jerk.

"I don't have a favorite."

"That's like so not possible. Who do you hang out with the most?"

"Stitch."

"My fav is always goin' to be Wolvie." And _that_ topic filled up the remaining 12 minutes of our time together. Her talking about what a great guy Mr. Logan was, how cool, and what he gave her before something yadda yadda yadda. I almost leapt away from the girl and her serenade of the Saint Logan stories when it was time.

"The next set of pairings will be, Chris and Kerry, Adam and-" Oh, _joy_. I got stuck with Mr. Pessimistic himself. I decided to _attempt_ to be nice to this guy, although he slammed the door in my face, and never had one kind word to say to anyone. I walked over to where he leaned against a tree.

"Hi, Chris." I made the first move. Shouldn't I get something for saying it?

"Listen, I'll make this easy for you. The only reason I'm at this place again is because I didn't have anywhere else to go. I've tried to be friends with these people, and it didn't work, so I don't feel like chit chatting with another of their brainless minions. So for fifteen minutes we are going to play the quiet game. You be quiet, and I'll be quiet, that way we can at least say we got along."

I couldn't think of anything to say. _Wow,_ I mean _wow_. This guy laid down the law, and there I sat just taking it. For a few minutes I could only stare at him as his frown became uglier. Then, what was the naturally reaction when someone was playing superior to me? I got mad. When I got mad, I was not held accountable for the things I say or the blood that was spilt.

"What is your problem?" I snapped. Not exactly a strong argument, but it was something.

"I'm a mutant teenager with raging hormones that have been dammed up since I was thirteen. Sorry if I'm a bit rude," he replied sarcastically. Something about him reminded me of Bobby-Jerk.

"Oh, like _that's_ a one man show. Have you looked around?"

Chris shifted, sat up, and looked at me over his sunglasses.

"Look here Girl Scout, I don't need these people. I don't need anyone. The sooner everyone gets that through their heads, the happier we'll all be."

"I can say this about you; you're going to have those 'raging hormones' dammed up for a _very_ long time."

We ignored each other after that and waited for the bell to ring to let us swap. I trudged through all of the interviews, and as it was down to only one more person I had the whole 'questions to ask to make Mr. Spent-too-much-time-in-the-sun-Summers' happy. I had Adrian next, and as I was making my way to him, D-M pulled me over.

"What was with you and Chris?"

"We don't get along." _Duh_.

"Huh, that's funny," she paused, sighed and continued, "He's cynical, mean, pessimistic, and spiteful."

"Yeah. So what makes it so funny?" I yawned.

"It's just that y'all have all that in common and don't get along, who'd've thought?" With that she walked away.

_Talk about a wolf in sheep's clothing!_

What crawled inside her and ate her heart? I was nothing like Chris! He's rude, hateful, and _so_ condescending. He'd make a much better match for Monet (only because I didn't really care for either of them).

* * *

Thankfully, Miss Munroe decided we needed to get to know some of the 'senior' staff before Mr. Summers decided to make the younger ones hold hands and sing 'I Love You' or something as distressing. _Un_-thankfully, the woman also had a 'list' of people to get paired. Of course I didn't get teamed up with Dr. Hank, Sam, Mr. Warren, Mr. Kurt (who I hadn't seen around much) or anyone else I had come to know a little better than just their names.

"We will team you up with a senior member of the school that Charles, Scott, and I think will best suit all of your needs and future position on the team with exclusions of Jubilee and Monet." Why the heck were _they_ excluded? Was the position of snob already filled? Jubilee was okay, though her Wolvie worshiping did get old rather quickly.

When Jubilee and Monet heard the news they smirked at each other and sauntered into the house. Who needed them anyway!

"Daisy, you will be spending the next few hours with Hank."

"Neat!" Typical D-M reply, she seemed a bit too happy as she made a beeline for the sliding glass door.

"Adam, you will be with Logan. He's waiting for you in the woods."

"Wicked." And then Adam was gone.

"Adrian, you will be with two instructors, Bishop and Maggot, who are in the gym."

Adrian didn't say anything, just got up and left. He's a pretty neat guy, or at least one of the more tolerable.

"Kerry you're with Scott."

_Stab! Stab! Stab!_

"Chris," Miss Munroe paused as if dreading saying the next words. "Bobby is waiting for you in the men's dorm."

"_No way_!" In a flash the boy was on his feet and in their faces. "I'm not spending _any_ time with that clown! I don't want to do it! I'm going to go back to my room and -"

That's when I got up to leave. Talk about a big baby.

* * *

After the nightmarish meeting with Mr. Large-and-in-Charge Summers, he announced the next activity would be in an hour and we had 'down' time until then. I don't know why they paired me with him, perhaps just to aggravate me? Who knew, he did most of the talking, and I did all of the nodding.

D-M made herself cozy next to Adam who was going on and on about the 'way wicked way' Dr. Hank had cured the Legacy Virus with some female doctor. I decided to avoid any and all living beings at that moment. I had three more hours to 'play' with this group; I didn't want to buddy up to them anymore than necessary.

I made my way back up to _my_ room just to dig around for something to read (like a manga book or something, oh like no one else had a closet obsession). When I got to the top of the stairs leading into the men's hall, I heard shouting. Not a joking shout like Bobby-Jerk and Dr. Hank liked to do when they knew Mr. Remy had a hangover, this was a fight shout.

"I'm _not_ your 'little buddy' anymore, Bobby! So stop calling me that!"'

It was Chris, I was getting a real knack for hearing ….okay, eavesdropping. Like it's not a common practice!

"Chris, I know I wasn't there all the time but you gotta understand-"

"I don't have to understand _anything_! _No _one was there for me _ever_ from this place! You talk a good talk, but really suck at following through!"

Whoa, I'd have to ask D-M about this. I knew while I'd been grounded she's gone shopping with the 'gossip gals' (Mrs. Jean and Miss Rogue) on some Saturdays.

"Calm down, let's talk about this without the shouting."

I heard a loud groan, "I don't _want_ to talk about this! And I sure as hell don't want to 'work this out'. You don't _know_ what I've been through so stay out of my way or better still, _drop dead_!"

Then there were heavy footsteps, a slamming door, some pounding with shouting on the door from Bobby-Jerk, and then Chris' heavy metal music blasting.

Definitely worth investigating-later.

* * *

"Don't make me fry you, chicken."

"Oh _that's_ original. Steal that line from the _Spongebob_?"

"Bird brain."

"Dried-up gnome."

"Dog face."

"Bieber fan."

"_Oh_, that was low."

Yes, this was _still_ continuing the day of 'activities' and yes, _Chris _and I met up again. We'd been bouncing insults off of one another for a good fifteen minutes. Why? We were tied together. This was their sick entertainment apparently. D-M, the three boys, and I were tied together around our waists and ankles making it very hard to move. But that's the point, or that's what Mr. Super-Snore-Summers said. We were to move thirty feet, as a group, from point A (the porch) to point B (where Mr. Logan and Mr. Bishop were).

I didn't think these people had cable, otherwise they wouldn't be this twisted!

"Can't you two just get along?" D-M pleaded.

"As soon as he's dead."

"Is that a threat?"

"More like a promise."

"You're both acting like babies," Adrian peeped in, all of us were pulling and tugging at the ropes from all different directions. We had to work together, but I didn't think anyone was going to listen to anyone else. Meanwhile, everyone watching was having a good laugh at our antics. I was not a tool used for anyone's amusement!

"Come on guys, let's work together on this," Adam pitched in.

"What after school special did you phase out of?" Chris grouched. Man, that guy was annoying.

We moved maybe a foot in five minutes. It was closer to the porch, which was really okay with me, because that made me closer to Summers, the closer I got to him, the quicker I could choke him!

"I'm _sick_ of this," Chris whined. "What's the point of this stupid exercise?"

"To get the five of you to move as one," Miss Munroe answered easily. "Also to see if the positions predicted earlier are indeed what positions everyone will take."

"That makes sense."

It did? I was lost. What in the world did they mean by 'positions'? This wasn't cheerleading (I would have quit a _long_ time ago if it was) so how could they assign positions?

"Come on let's get this over with," Adam prodded, "I'll start walking sideways, Daisy you do the same, Adrian you lead. Kerry and Chris, you two walk backwards."

"_Do_ I look like Michael Jackson to you?" Chris shot. This was one grumpy boy.

But not as grumpy as me.

"Just do it!" I fused at him; he gave me a side glare.

I knocked him with my wing.

"Idiot."

"Mushroom fungus."

The other three started to move, and then I did as well. Chris was a jerk, man, this was getting annoying. With four against one he didn't have much choice but to move with us, mumbling and cursing the whole way. I hoped they let me keep some of this rope cause I was going to hang him with it later.

"We're almost there," Adrian informed us. The watchers were still laughing. We never got to see past _almost_. Mr. Difficult tripped over _my_ feet (like I don't do that enough) and one, two, four, everyone on the floor! Not only did he trip but he tripped in a way that he and I were on the bottom of the dog pile.

You think it hurts to be fallen on, try to be smooshed while you had wings! _Ouch _and _ouch_!

"_Dang_! We were almost there!" Daisy-Mae bemoaned as we waited oh so patiently for the adults to untie us. My face was squashed into the ground, and when I finally could breathe again, all I wanted to do was kill Chris.

"That was fun!" D-M chirped.

I rubbed my neck as my wings 'accidentally' smacked into Chris. He _tried_ to do a death glare, but compared to the ones I had seen, it was nothing!

But as I looked up to the 'leaders' of the group…they were smiling.

* * *

She did my hair.

I buckled.

Daisy did things my hair was _not_ supposed to do. Curls and highlights (_not_ permanent). I even let her whining win me over with agreeing to do make-up. I think I was still hazy from being smooshed into the ground by three people two days ago.

She took pictures.

I wanted my room back!

I needed to find and destroy that camera.

* * *

It was six when I heard a banging at D-M's door, the owner of the room was down in the rec. room (on my couch, I still had claim on it) with the dateless of Friday night crew. I think she just liked to flirt. _Always_ flipping her hair, and doing this really annoying eye look thing. But back to the knock on the door.

"Wh-at?"

The next three words brought a smile to my face felt like it break my head in half. I was _so_ happy.

"Your room's ready."

_My_ room was _finished_! Complete! Together! No more singing daisy in a plastic pot, no more Daisy in the morning telling me to lighten up, no more Beiber, and I finally got a place to _hide_!

Only down side, I remembered when I made my way back to _my_ room (when you'd been stuck with D-M for two weeks you were _more_ than happy to pack up your stuff in two seconds flat and run), was that _Chris_ was next door.

I groaned, or did I growl? Either way I made a none-too-happy noise. What made me remember he was next door was the blasting music. My hands were full with the box of my stuff which made it hard to turn the knob on my door. And there was no one to scream for to help, I mean even if there _were_ people around they wouldn't be able to hear me over the screaming and drums Chris called music.

"I can help you," came a very quiet voice. It was Adrian, he seemed like he was embarrassed to be around me. Why else would his cheeks be a tomato red?

"Sure." He gave a small smile, a little boy smile, like the ones that you couldn't help but smile back at? "Thanks."

"S-sure," Adrian shut the door behind me and my box hit the ground. My _room_. It was-remodeled or something! It was completely different from how I saw it last (okay, last time I saw it there was a huge _hole_ in the wall and floor, but I meant when I last saw it whole without the hole…my head hurts).

I had a wall, a _window seat _(that was new), and my bed was made. _That_ would be the last time that would happen. My eyes had to _slow-ly_ take in everything. My closet was open, and there was something different about it as well.

It was _empty!_

Empty-except the note inside.

_'Dear Ker-bear_, (as if _that_ didn't give it away)

_The group agreed that it was time for you to get a new wardrobe. Something that is more revealing with fewer holes. _

_Love! _

_Daisy-Mae'_

They took my _clothes_?

For Christmas I was going to get these people a satellite. The _nerve_! Well, there went my happy mood! At least they gave me my cookie sheets _and_ a new computer, a laptop! _Whoa_!

These people liked me! They really liked me!

_Ha-ha_, I made a joke.

Anyway, on my bed there sat Stitch, with his dilapidated body and fluff still sticking out from odd areas. I sighed. At least I got my room back.

But I wonder how long that was going to last.


	19. The Shopping Experience

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 019**_

* * *

I needed to be committed.

Honestly, I would have _so_ much to tell the little bearded man that he would have to up his anti-depression prescription.

It had been a week since my clothes walked out on me (with the help of every female in the house) and I had to wash my clothes almost every day. Let me not get into the begging I had to do to get allowed back into the laundry room. Apparently the Professor and _Scott_ didn't know about the 'mission' of the X-Women and just wished me the best after I showed them the note.

D-M told me on Saturday was when I would be allowed to have a new wardrobe, as long as it meet with the approval of the other female shoppers. As the days drew closer, more of my clothes went missing. On Friday night all I had left was the bare basics. A night shirt, bra, panties, and a pair of shorts with the words 'Princess' across the rear (D-M's idea of a joke no doubt).

Clearly no one thought this through when they were _stealing_ them. All I had left for the next day (the first day off of groundation, was going shopping, and no doubt get grounded again) was a pair of jeans and my 'comfortable' shoes (aka had holes in them and could no longer tell the original color). What's the problem?

_No shirt_.

I was _not_ going to ask D-M for anything else after the little Princess shorts stint.

I was not going to traipse around in my beat up old nightshirt that had huge holes in the back (for my wings to fit through) and was _way_ too short.

I wasn't going to ask any other female in this house-I'd seen their shirts (or lack thereof) with the skin tight sequins, or the green…it just wasn't going to happen. That left me going in a bra, or going and asking one of the guys to borrow theirs.

Naturally I thought of Mr. Warren, but he was gone for the weekend with some other guys (Dr. Hank and _Scott_ on a 'old times' fanfare, I think it had something to do with the _huge_ fight between Mrs. Jean and _Scott_). So that nixed three guys (they locked their bedroom doors, trust me, I checked) and Chris wasn't even an option. Besides us not getting along, I didn't think he ever cleaned his clothes.

Maggot was 'on the town' with Mr. Remy (smells _so_ good), so that was two more off the list.

I started to think the guys were just looking for an excuse to get out of the house to prevent being dragged to the mall in NYC with the rest of the victims (namely me). I think I was the only one who considered this torture, the rest termed it 'fun'.

Back to the shirt, I was on the hunt. Professor, _heck_ no. Mr. Logan? _Riiiight_, whatever, if I wanted to smell like cigars and wear flannel. Mr. Bishop….was huge. There was _no way_ I'd ever fit into his clothes, they'd fall right offa me!

That left Bobby-Jerk, Adam, and Adrian.

What a choice.

Bobby-Jerk somehow got roped into going with the females as did the others. The other two hadn't learned to dodge the female fatales yet, and Bobby-Jerk didn't have any decent clothes left after the little fiasco I pulled with the bleach. That was why he was going.

Adam's shirts were all science and computer club shirts with some corny web logo shirts. There was no _way_ I was going to strut around in any of those. I might not be a fashion guru, but I know what I _don't_ want to wear. So that left only Adrian, who D-M (she actually visited now, she had a thing for Adam) said he was starting to get 'interested'. I told her she was crazy, the guy was a friend.

She just did this 'uh-huh' thing.

* * *

"I _told_ you!" D-M kept poking me in the arm.

I should have had the image inducer on when I came down the steps. As soon as D-M saw me in one of _his_ shirts, she about tackled me to get to answers. Now we were in the car (one of two taken, the X-people said they don't 'do' vans), split up boys and girls, except Miss Oreo was riding with boys to make sure they actually _went_ to the mall.

"So tell tell!" Daisy prodded, still poking me in the arm. _That_ was getting as annoying as my wing tops rubbing across the top of the car.

"Tell _what_?"

"About _why_ you're wearin' _his_ shirt?"

"Because you _stold_ all of mine." Miss Rogue kept smiling in the rear view mirror at us. There was a fuming Mrs. Jean, Miss Rogue, Monet (ick), Jubilee, and then me and D-M. We were in an SUV.

"But why _Ad-ri-an's_?"

"He's across the hall from me." Okay, so technically, the bathroom was directly across the hall from my bedroom, but I disliked getting technical.

"_Riiiight_." She dropped it after that, well, she didn't have much choice because Jubilee started blasting the music. It was country music, and Miss Rogue screamed bodily harm to those who might change it.

* * *

"No."

"You have to, Kerry!"

"_No_!"

"It's _so_ pretty!"

"Oh, yeah? Then where's the _rest_ of it?"

They were holding up a string and calling it a shirt. It was a pink string draped on a hanger with a high price tag. I might not be into fashion, but no way in creation was I going to put on something that I would have to bat away guys from trying to shove money in my cleavage! I had been in the store for almost an hour and all we agreed on was one shirt. Even _that_ one was a stretch for me.

"Maybe we should get _Adrian_ in here," D-M tried, I glared at her.

Mrs. Jean put the shirt back on the rack and declared there was nothing left to try on and we should go to another store. I wanted to try another group of people. My mom (the one who sent those mutant hunters on me) would give me two hundred dollars and then turn me lose at any store of my naming. She didn't ask questions, or give 'tips' on how to show off my 'figure'.

Of course back then my figure didn't consist of _wings_.

Thankfully, we left that store in with one bag for me and about three for everyone else.

"_Ohh_! Let's try in here!" Was the warning I got before I being dragged into another store that had scantily clad mannequins.

What was the difference with these clothes stores?

Before I could breathe it seemed I was dressed in some short skirt, barely there top with a chain thing connecting my ear to my neck, my neck to my arm and my arm to my finger. Were they afraid they were going to fall off?

"You look adorable, shuga."

"She looks _o-kay_, but you can see the -uhhhu, 'bulges'," D-M replied.

When'd she get to blunt!

Oh! She meant my wings! I guess I should go backless.

"Go change."

I did so _happily_. I had to remember to ask Mr. Warren how he was able to wear suits without cutouts in the back. I walked out of the changing room, and noticed something wonderful-everyone's back was turned to me.

This was my chance.

It was now or never, I just had to keep a blank slate in my mind and run for it without Mrs. Jean noticing.

I just kept complaining mentally, and she never noticed that I was out of the store and made a break for the food court.

* * *

I was destined never to have sweets again!

I was almost to the food court when I realized something, my serious lack of funds for _getting_ the sweets. But there was _no_ way I was going to go back to the pack of female critics. So I was left to wander around the three story mall by myself (or until I was hog tied and dragged back to my death sentence). _Or_ if I ran into the guys, wherever they might be hiding. My luck, Bobby-Jerk would probably find it amusing to send me back to _them_.

"I think she went this way." With a quick check over the shoulder, and _yup_ they were on to me!

Man, I thought I would get at least ten more minutes before they would know I was missing! It's only been thirty minutes. I did the dumbest thing by ducking into a store closest to me, and waited patiently for D-M and Miss Oreo to walk by (I swear I was going to learn how to say her name, just not now).

I sighed with relief, and then turned to see where I was.

I calmly (with my eyes barely staying in their sockets) walked out of the store and across the walkway. I won't tell what type of store it was, but the first thing I saw was a blow-up doll and the name of the store was '18 Plus Yum Yum'.

Of course that would be my luck to wander into a place like _that_.

* * *

Whatever one might think, there was simply no hiding from a telepath on a mission.

_Finally_ they managed to see things my way (as long as I stayed away from baggy clothes and agreed to get ONE girly-girl outfit). I couldn't see the outfit the others picked out for me. That just _spelled_ trouble. So I was left to wander around with a credit card to shop for myself. D-M would appear every once in a while to take return half the things I bought and bring these _hideous_ colored things back to me.

Snot green and ripe orange were not meant to be together on a shirt.

Somehow I ended up in front of the Disney store, and staring at (get this) a healthy Stitch. Full of fluff and not looking like the dog got the best of him. He wasn't like the sorry sight in my room. I _love_ him, but I wanted one that didn't feel like a rag.

"Isn't that the thing you're always carrying around?"

Adrian.

"Fluffy, isn't it?"

Bobby-Jerk.

I turned, smiled, and then glared over my shoulder.

"He's name is Stitch, _Bobby_," I corrected then turned my nose up in the air and walked into the store. I was already warned not to get anything with any sort of cartoon character, or it would be returned. They took over my life and were playing with it!

"No need to get snappy little lady," Bobby-Jerk snorted following me into the store with Adrian behind him.

'Little lady'? Did this guy have a John Wayne complex no one knew (or wanted to know) about?

"I'm not snappy. I'm sugar deprived."

"Uh-huh."

"Are you going to buy another one?"

I sighed.

"Can't. Mrs. Jean forbid me from buying anything but clothes."

That was right before I got this _telepathic_ message that had me jumping and trying to climb on the stuff animal stack. I wished they would _stop_ that! My brain wasn't a friggin' answering machine! You could _not_ just pick up and call it out of the blue! I was fragile in that respect, I liked my privacy and my thoughts to be kept private.

Haha, like they'd let there be a secret, they knew more about my life then I thought existed.

"I have to go," I said as I made a dash for the exit. I accidentally made a pyramid of plush Bambi's and seven dwarfs fall…very big mess.

* * *

It was tight, it was _almost_ see-through and it was mine.

It was going to burn.

"I _knew_ she'd look cute in it!" D-M gushed pulling me out of the store.

"What about my _clothes_?" I screeched, grabbing a hold of the store's doorframe, while D-M tugged on the other end.

"They're in here, Kerry," Miss Munroe replied cheerfully raising a bag to show me.

I had to walk around in public like_ this?_

"And don't you mean, _Adrian's_ clothes?"

Geez, it was _just_ his shirt!

"I bet if you had a little make-up, your hair and nails done you'd get _someone_ to look at you," Daisy commented.

I glared.

She was _way_ too good at giving a back-handed compliment-if you could even call them that!

"Ah think she'll get a lot more than just turned heads!" Miss Rogue pitched in.

Like offers to do improper things for money?

"You know, Kerry, I shop in that store all the time."

Did I mention I wasn't fond of telepaths? Mrs. Jean picked up the latest comment I made, and smiled at me. That earth-chilling smile that meant you were going to be in _big_ trouble if you didn't shut-up _right_ at that moment.

I did. I liked my mind intact (as much as humanly possible that was).

* * *

"That was fun," D-M's comment as she, Adrian, Bobby-Jerk, and I got into the vehicle to head back to the school. By some strange miracle the ladies let me escape with the guys. Well, all except Adam who I hadn't seen the _whole_ day. Daisy pouted that he spent the entire time in Barnes and Nobles or at the science store. So he stayed behind with the other females. I think the _only_ reason D-M wanted to go was because it bugged her that I would be with two guys in one car.

I was telling you, this girl is guy _crazy_. I was surprised she didn't have twenty kids.

Of course she wasn't going to go until we met up with the other two. Adrian went beat red, and Bobby-Jerk's eyebrows rose _over_ his sunglasses in question. I took one look at them and tried to cover myself with my arms. A see-through top with _tight_ low cut jeans. I hadn't been that naked in normal clothes since I was three running around in my underwear.

"That was a nightmare. Though usually anything male has to play the living shopping cart and tote around any boxes, bags, and _purses_."

"Why?"

"They need both hands free to shop or something like that," Bobby-Jerk answered.

I was just happy to be going home-well, not home, I told myself I would _not_ call that place home. Nope, not happening!

"Did you two get anything?"

Nervous fidgeting. That couldn't be any better than Mrs. Jean's icy smile and glare combo.


	20. In the SKY!

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 020**_

* * *

Ever said 'I'm so mad I could scream?' Ever followed through with it?

I did.

Ever picked up a chair, an innocent chair that was doing its chairy things by waiting patiently for your rear end, and threw it.

I did.

I was so angry. I screamed and picked up my computer chair and threw it against the wall Chris and I shared. I threw it right into my mirror. Did I do that on purpose? Oh yeah, I did.

Why?

Because I saw myself, and I wanted me to go away.

Why the sudden 'I hate me' depression?

I _finally_ read my sister's e-mail. It had some junk in it, but most of it was what my mom had done to prevent me from ever going home again. No, Darcy didn't write anything about the mutant killers my mom apparently sent after me, but it said everything else.

My loving mother changed our phone number, then sold her shop, picked up, and moved to a different city in a different state.

She wanted nothing to do with me, Darcy wrote that mom even forbid my name from being spoken. All the photographs that any part of me in it went missing. There wasn't much I cared to read after that, except the part where she wrote I should watch for something in the mail from mom in the upcoming months.

Darcy wrote that if I hadn't turned out to be a mutant, we could all be back together no problem.

Like I had a choice in the matter!

That's when I jumped up, looked behind me, saw my wings, screamed, and picked up my chair and threw it at the mirror. It shattered into a million pieces (the mirror, not the chair). My screech must have been louder than I thought, because all went silent from Chris' room. In a few minutes I had thrown everything I could reach to the other side of the room and then back again. (Remember, I had no problems with authority as long as I could pitch a fit? My fits usually lasted for a week.)

Oh yeah, did I mention that it was around two in the morning?

That would explain the burst of curse words coming from the hall after about six doors slammed open. Then there was a healthy dose of pounding on my door. Thankfully I had enough brains to lock my door to avoid interruptions (not that I get visitors in the early _A.M_. like _some_ of the people in the hall).

"_Kerry?_ _Kerry_! Open up!"

I didn't care who it was, but they were persistent buggers. I heard the knob shake, and then more banging. Wasn't it amazing how quickly anger can melt into tears? Man, I _hated_ that! When you're _so_ angry you start blubbering like a baby.

"_Kid_!"

"_Leave me alone_!" I screamed out, much to my surprise.

"What's wrong?"

You're bothering me? I'd like to destroy my room in private, please go away now.

"I can get a key to get in there, so just open up," Mr. Warren's cautioned.

I knew Mr. Kurt must have disappeared on a 'mission' again because he didn't teleport in the room. Wasn't that freaky? Never knowing when someone was just going to 'pop' into your room and such? Like a physical telepath or something, more freaky to the eyes, but at least you got to keep more secrets from them.

"Don't come in here," I warned, like I really could do anything to them if they did. I think all of them would qualify as black belts or something, except Chris, he'd hang himself with his belt (I hoped) at the very least _gag_ himself with it!

"What's with the racket?"

"There's a spider," I lied, banging my head on the door. "A big, furry spider."

There was no response, just a jingle of keys, and my lock slowly turning.

"I can _kill_ it without _you_!" I pushed away from the door, and kicked the door.

Not only did I _kick_ the door, I made a _hole_ in it. I kicked a hole through a solid wood door!

"_Whoa_!"

I left my foot in the door, what else was I supposed to do? Actually _think_?

Yeah right, you turn a door into splinters and tell me you can brush it off like it was nothing. Better yet, lose your skin, grow wings, kick a hole through a door, and _then _tell me you can deal with it no problem.

* * *

"I have good news my female feathered friend."

Most people throw a fit and get left alone, I throw a fit and get examined. Dr. Hank agreed to wait until later in the morning to do it, but not much later. Everyone had a freak attack along with me, and tried to help get my foot and lower leg back through the door without too much damage. It would have worked if I hadn't forgotten my emotions set off my skin (that never sounded _so_ weird).

"How?" I asked, any liveliness was drained from me. I think it was because I spent the rest of the night crying, curled up in a little ball on my bed with someone letting me use their lap as my pillow.

"Besides your obvious mutation, and your internal mutation, _and_ your skin mutation, you also appear to have a sort of super strength," Dr. Hank explained.

"That is so wicked," Adam awed.

"Not the wording I would use, but it is rather impressive."

"Like Miss Rogue?" Hey, I might not talk to everyone, but I saw this chick left a _car_ over her head without breaking a sweat one night after Mr. Remy came home with lipstick on his collar.

"Not quite, like your skin transformations, it would appear that the same adrenaline makes your muscles go into 'over drive' and therefore give you incredible strength."

"Who would have thought since you have such scrawny arms?"

_Eeegads_, the _last_ person I wanted to see this morning was D-M and her meanness.

"Miss Bloome is here in case you needed healing, but since they seemed to have-disappeared thanks to your black skin."

Yeah, thanks to being a mutant I managed not to get splinters in my leg and lose my family all in one blow. Oh, bless me!

* * *

"Want to talk about it?" Mr. Warren decided that it would be better to stay inside and work on my back strength the following day. Not because of my depression brought on temper tantrum, because Miss Munroe allowed it to rain, and Mr. Warren said it was hard enough to get me to let go of him on a sunny day, he didn't even want to try in the middle of the rain.

"Not really."

"It'll help."

"That is not a proven clinical fact?" I questioned, turned, and walked back across the balance beam. Didn't help with back strength but oh well.

"You can't keep it inside forever." Mr. Warren was a good strategist, but I still had things up my sleeves.

I decided to do the smartest thing, and ignored him.

"Why don't you ever talk to anyone about what's bothering you?"

Apparently he didn't know when he was being ignored.

"Come on, Kerry, don't you trust me?"

_Dang it_! Why'd he have to go and pull that! I didn't really trust him to _not_ tell the Professor, but I'd been with Mr. Warren almost every morning for a month. So I didn't reply at first, just kinda stopped what I was doing and looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

This always did amazing things (on me at least).

This of course was shot to pieces when he crossed his arms and looked back at me with the same expression.

I sighed, defeated. I didn't feel too much like fighting anyway. But I didn't like everyone knowing my business either. I didn't like it when people looked at me with all that sympathy, it's annoying. Like I was some little kitten that just lost mommy cat due to a cruel eighteen wheeler.

"You won't tell anyone?"

I sounded like I just got plucked out of middle school. Man, I sounded stupid! Too late to take it back now. I wished sometimes I had the power to control time or something!

But Mr. Warren only smiled, "I promise, anything that is said will be between you and me."

Again, I sighed, and then jumped off the balance beam and sat crossed legged next to it. "What do you want to know?"

"Why you put a hole in your door? Why you screamed bloody murder? Why you are rolling your eyes when I'm talking to you?"

Whoops.

"I-got some bad news from home." Maybe I couldn't prevent myself from telling him, but at least I could hopefully leave out most of the details.

"Like what?" He moved closer.

"Like just-stuff." I started to pick at the blue mat I sat on. I really didn't like talking about my family.

"I see." Then he sighed again, "If you don't want to talk about it, we don't we have to talk about. We can talk about something else."

I wasn't biting that bait so quickly, "Like?"

"Anything, first thing that comes to your mind."

I thought about that. You know _no_ one says the first thing that comes to their mind, and that's annoying. Sometimes I wished I could say what I wanted to without being edited by my socially acceptable dictionary. The little voice that goes 'you shouldn't say that, you'll upset someone'. The only time it didn't hang around was when I was sick, or had been up for 24 hours or longer. That little guy got drop kicked out of my mind and sailed into the cloud known as nine.

"I wish I were rich." Why must I speak? Why didn't I ever tell myself to _shut-_up? Save the oxygen for something that might actually sound decent? Maybe I should learn sign language to prevent from wasting air?

"Oh really?" Mr. Warren seemed amused, that could be bad or good. "Why?"

Wasn't he Mr. Wanna-Know today!

"Because if you're rich, you get it easier." I climbed back on the balance beam and started to walk on it. "I mean, if you do something bad, you get pointed at and followed around but in the end nothing really is done about it. Because no one really cares. Any flaw in the rich people just proves that they're real people under all the green."

"And do you think it's easier to be a mutant if you're rich?" His voice kept getting lower with each word. I should have taken that as a warning, but me doing a complete Kerry-Dumb-thing didn't.

"Well yeah, they can buy their way out of anything, why not just flaunt their mutant powers like an accessory and leave it at that? I mean that singer, Lila something or another was a mutant and everyone thought she was great. So I think with money you get to buy your response from people. If Spiderman were rich, I don't think that Bugle paper would give him such a hard time."

Mr. Angel was _really_ quite at this point, so quiet that I thought he'd dropped dead or left. But he was still there, standing with his arms crossed, and eyes hidden under bangs.

"You think you can buy your way out of a bad thing?"

I let my answer slip out when it shouldn't have, "Yeah."

"Come with me, I want to show you something."

His voice dropped an octave and sounded a _whole_ lot like Mr. Scott-You-ain't-going-to-ever-eat-good-bad-food-again. I followed, and we ended up in some big round room with a big round metal table in the center.

"Sit." And like a dog that went to obedience school, my hinny hit the chair. "I want to give you a history lesson on someone that had the same outlook you did."

Oh no, not _another_ long speech about how I wasn't thinking correctly! I'd tune out and continue with my 'bad' thoughts, or knowing Mr. Warren he'd pop quiz me over it again.

"Now, it's getting around that you put A.D.D. kids to shame when it comes to listening, so I'm going to try to keep your attention with some visual aid." With that, a picture of a young blonde guy in jeans with a cancer stick appeared in the middle of the round metal table thing. He looked familiar. "You are probably wondering 'Who is this gorgeous young man?'"

I flattened my stare, of course that's why he looked familiar, the picture was Mr. Warren 'back in the day'.

"Right."

"Moving on, who you are seeing is me. Warren Worthington the third, boy billionaire since I was born. I was and still _am_ rich." The picture changed into some big blue guy with wires coming out of his head and purple lips. "Meet Apocalypse. If you thought the Prime Sentinels were bad, this man is a million times worse."

I raised an eyebrow at the picture; he looked like a toy robot.

"He didn't care who I was or whether I was poor or not. It didn't matter to him. And you know what he did?" He showed me him with white wings and peach colored skin, and made it do a really cool phase into blue skin with –_silver _wings? "He changed me. I lost my original wings in a fight, he found me, and made me into his Archangel of Death."

_Creeeeeeeeppppeeeeeee_.

"He gave me blades instead of feathers, took my life away from me," Mr. Warren's voice was really deep and _very_ serious. "It took a long time, but I finally got away from him. He didn't care about money. I could buy a good portion of a continent, but I couldn't buy my freedom from him. I couldn't buy being normal. I still can't."

"How'd you get your feathers back?"

Mr. Warren shut off the computer and gave me a half smile, "I have no idea."

_What_! How could you _not_ know something was growing out of your back? It wasn't like you could just wake up one day and go 'oh my, look what's here! At least I don't have to get stuck in morning traffic anymore!'

"What happened to the robot guy?"

"That's another story." Then his watch started to beep. "You're going to be late for your meeting with the Prof. You better get going."

I got up to leave, and then I remembered something about his name. Worthington? Hadn't I seen that like, a _long_ time ago? I stood in the doorway for a while, just thinking about it. There was a sudden crash from Dr. Hank's lab and my mind was jogged!

"I know where I heard that name before!" I admitted happily (like it was some big accomplishment), "Bobby-Jer-_Bobby_ had your credit card when he broke all that junk with Daisy-Mae!"

He stared at me blankly for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed. "Was this at Najor?"

"Yeah, I think that was it."

"Excuse me, Kerry, I have to go _kill_ someone." I moved out of his way, and then heard a very loud shout. "_Prepare to die, Drake_!"

Guess I made a mistake (then while was I smiling?).

* * *

They put me on a _frigign' ice pillar_!

I wasn't even talking about a few feet in the air, I was looking down at the forest floor and I couldn't see anything but green. I was up on this _freezing_ pillar, that was a ten foot wide circle. I wasn't alone. I had another _jerk_ up there. Oh yeah, you got that right _Bobby-Iceboy_!

"I think this is tall enough," he said, as a complete ice cube. "Only about two or three thousand feet in the air. Should be fun don't you think?"

"_No_! What is _wrong _with you?" I asked, my nails dug into the ice. I _swear_ I could feel the big thing _sway_.

"There's only two ways down, _Ker-ree_, and that is to either fly or fall. And no one is going to be around to catch you." With that, he smirked and jumped off the pillar on to his ice slide.

"I'll freeze to death!" I protested.

"Nope, Storm is going to make sure about that. But just so you don't go all 'Shining' on us, you get a communicator." He threw me a little disc thing with an X on it.

"Is this because I told Mr. Warren whatcha did!" That was in the past!

"You're the one who ratted us out?"

I was so _dumb_!

He smirked then was gone. I was left on the pillar of pure _cold_ ice, with the _hot, hot_ sun beating down on me as the clouds mysteriously disappeared. Wonder why. If no one was going to try to catch me if I tried and couldn't fly, then there was no way I was going to try to fly. _No way._

_Heck no_.

* * *

I was going to _kill_ someone or something when I got down from there! These were some sick, _sick_ people, they should be known as the XXX-Men with their twisted since of humor. And if being up there for three hours wasn't bad enough, hearing the words of 'encouragement' from the stupid communicator did not help any.

"Come on, fly already, I'm going to lose the bet!" came the _rotten_ man who put me up there. Oh, and then, shortly after I told them 'no way' _again_, they started target practice with my ice tower!

Mr. _Scott_-I'm-Going-to-Starve-You-Into-Submission, started to shoot off pieces of the thing that was holding me up! I wasn't talking about ice _chips_, but ice _chunks_! They went crashing down to the lake and made _really_ big splashes. I was going to end up as a splash!

"Don't make me take this thing out from under your feet," _Scott_ said.

"I'm not making you do a darn thing!" I screamed. I wasn't told how to use this blasted communicator. But the way I was still digging my nails into the middle of the ice thing, the picture was clear, and if looks could kill he would be a dead man shooting.

He was _sickest_. And he was at the top of my list I like to call 'Revenge'.

The ice started to rock to the right, my stomach became the size of a grain of dirt. I felt ill.

"It's giving away, it's now or never."

Then give me _never_!

"Come on Kerry, just try." _Mousey-_boy was giving _me_ encouragement? At least he was trying.

"Chicken, fly. No wait, fall. It'll be funnier." Chris was such a _jerk_! No, he was much worse than a jerk was the living embodiment of a jack-ass.

"Come on Ker-bear! I'm pretty sure your wings will be able to handle _your_ weight."

D-M and Chris sittin' in a tree…okay, that's too twisted even for me!

And then it gave. The ice pillar was weakened from being in the sun, and having a blockhead with a laser gun for eyeballs shooting at it. The thing finally gave away and started to sway heavily to the right.

Why couldn't I ever get _my _way? Never worked for me! But _noooo_ they wanted me to fly and to fly right _now._ I didn't have much choice, it was either a big, painful splash or open those stupid curses and try to get them to work the way they were supposedly supposed to.

So I tried it. I had no choice! I spread out these things and just before the ice gave away I pushed off from the edge, and closed my eyes.

Then I remembered what I was doing, my eyes _flew_ open again.

"_I'm going to die_!" I cried out to no one, I let the comm. thingie fall with the ice. I could hear the angels singing me in (though, technically, there are angels on both ends of the sphere, one good, one _really_ bad) but it turned out to be _cheering_.

I-I was, well, I wouldn't call it flying, but I couldn't term it falling, I think they call it gliding or something, but whatever it was, it was _not _the end of me (yet).

These things actually worked!

"Good going, Kerry!"

"_Ahhh_!" Was my response when Mr. Warren swooped out of nowhere to be at my side. I jerked too quickly to one side and started to flip around in the air (I was told that between limbs and wings I looked like a human pinwheel). Before I stopped (ever been stopped in mid-spin? It's nauseating).

"You did well." Mr. Warren caught me, and was flying down to the ground.

"You're not going to make me do this again are you?"

"Yes."

I was moving.

"But not right now."

Okay, so I would stick around, not like I had anywhere else to go anyway!

* * *

Later that same day, after there was a small celebration about my breakthrough, they said that since my initial fear of trying to fly was crushed (according to _them_) I would likely be more cooperating toward future teaching…_sheyeah _right.

But I got another huge shock when I went into my room, after taking a nice _hot_ shower to try to getting feeling back in my feet. Not only had my room been miraculously cleaned, and my door replaced (how come they weren't that fast with my room as a whole?), but my Skinny Stitch had been Stitch-napped!

I kept him on my bed, snuggled in the sheets with his fuzzy blue head sticking out from underneath with his head on the pillow, _always_. But my Skinny Stitch wasn't there. Instead, there was a _Fat_ Stitch in his place.

Not _exactly_ in his place, but sitting on the bed staring at me.

I kinda (with my jaw dropped open) stumbled my way over to my bed, picked up the new guy, turned, and dropped down to my bed. I couldn't believe they actually got me a new doll. As with every gift, there was a note attached to one of he's ears.

All I could do was smile after I read it.

Maybe this school would get more interesting.


	21. BOYS!

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 021_**

* * *

_He_ wanted to talk to me again.

_He_ thought it would be beneficial if I got some of the things bothering 'off my chest'.

_He_ thought I was being childish when I kept saying 'nothing's wrong'.

_He_ thought I should learn to feel comfortable with talking to him.

_Yeah right_.

I would rather be stuck back up on that ice pillar then bare my soul to a man who only knows my name when I my 'brain waves' disturbed him. Professor Xavier said I needed to vent any frustrations and problems I had about the X-men or about living here to someone who could do something about it.

Namely _him_.

If not him, then _somebody_ with whom I felt a 'bond'.

I said I did tell someone all my woes, I just didn't tell him his name.

I _know_ that man would have had me in the nut house if I said his name was Stitch, and he's my stuffed toy.

* * *

Sometimes I really wished I was a guy.

Not only to be able to beat the living crap out of Chris and claim it was just for 'fun', but also because teenage boys seemed to be able to pack it away and never gained a pound. They could sit in front of the TV all day long, never stop eating, and it hardly _ever_ showed. While if I even _thought_ about a French fry I ballooned up and would be waddling around instead of walking.

I had seen Chris and Adrian sit down to eat first, get up last, and _still_ have the nerve to hunt around in the kitchen for _more_ food. As hard as it was to believe Chris actually would leave his room (earning me silence for maybe an hour) I'd actually seen him smile (after he found Mr. Hypocrite-Summers' stash of Snickers bars, which he did _not_ share-jerk).

Guys had it _so_ easy, if they gained a pound, they'd make their bellies dance, and showed it off to their friends. A girl gained a pound and she'd be off to the gym to try to burn it away, (while the guys were _still_ stuffing their faces) so she'd be able to fit into her jeans without her feet turning blue.

My mom (the one who tried to get me killed?) used to say the best thing about being pregnant was that you could eat whatever the heck you wanted (within reason) and gain all the weight you wanted. If the guy started to raise an eyebrow, all the woman had to do was a) pat her belly and say it's for the baby, or b) break down sobbing (got to love unstable emotions). But for us 'not carrying' girls, it was like _tough_ cookies!

If I had my choice of being the 'fairer sex' and being able to eat whatever I wanted to without reserve-_give me the food_! Everything would be dipped in chocolate, including a double decker hamburger with extra pickles and make those fries a _large_, please!

What brought on this sudden tantrum of food and the unfairness of it all?

One minor factor would be that I had to go grocery shopping _again_, because I 'did it so well' (I'd become a servant in the disguise of a student). What Mrs. Jean basically meant was that no one else wanted to do it, so the innocent kid got to. Here the excitement in my voice?

But the second and _much_ larger part was that _someone_ told me I needed to lay off the 'junk food'. A _guy_ told me _again_ to lay off the food, and while he was shoving a _huge_ handful of chips down his trap.

Didn't these people ever hear of etiquette? This was the _hypocrite_ with the secret stash of Snickers telling me lay off the junk food. What, I was now not allowed to have salad dressing on my _rabbit food_? I hadn't had chocolate in a didn't _know_ how long (since April, but who's keeping track?), and the chips were gone before I could get to them, there was no such thing as junk food in that house!

"Lay off the junk food, Kerry. I don't want you falling when you're trying to fly."

He's time was coming! I swear it!

* * *

"Just-jump!"

That line didn't work on the high dive when I was ten, and it wasn't going to work now!

"I'll fall!" I'm learned how to whine rather well.

"You won't fall if you open your wings and do as I told you to," he tried; this guy was getting _too_ good with the words. Although I gotta say, it sounded as though Mr. Warren was the one that was beginning to whine.

We were standing on top of the mansion looking down at the grass (and much to my dismay a serious _lack_ of safety net). This insane man wanted me to just take a suicide leap _off_ the side of the house, open my wings, and join the birds in the sky (more like, jump and be with the angels). Mr. Warren was under the _illusion_ that since the ice pillar ordeal I would be more willing to fly.

He said I was crying, I told him it was because I thought I was going to die.

"You're making this too difficult."

No, I was not! And if I was then they needed to get the crazy idea of my _using_ my wings for flying out of their skulls, only then would we all be happy. The black wings were just accessories!

"We aren't high enough!"

"And if I made you go anywhere higher, you'd complain that we are too high. Give me _some_ credit, Kerry."

Actually I would have said that the air is too thin and I was getting dizzy, but I'd like to save that excuse for another ice pillar incident (that and a shotgun).

I looked over the edge of the house, and then promptly back peddled to Mr. Warren's side.

"If you don't do this by choice, we're going to have to go to extremes again."

"I'm not going on another chunk of ice!" _No_ way, I was tricked into that _once_ never ever again! I still thought some parts of my feet hadn't returned to their normal color!

"No, no, of course not." He gave this funny smile, "It's boring to do the same thing twice."

Uh-oh.

* * *

Not only was he highly annoying, had blasting music, and made my skin crawl-Chris was also a leech.

Now before you get the wrong idea about what I mean, he didn't suck blood just money. I was collecting the shopping lists from everyone before the grocery shopping nightmare that awaited when I overheard him begging for money.

"Dude, come on, don't you have any cash left?" It was like his mantra, but he was only asking the guys.

"I'm broke. I told you, I spent it all," was Adrian's excuse, when Chris turned and looked at me I just glared at him. I must have gotten _real_ good at this glaring thing because he said he wasn't that desperate and turned to another door.

Most of the older people were gone, and the little leech convinced Adam into coughing up some money. I didn't ask about it, it wasn't any of my business (doesn't mean I wasn't dying to know).

"You ready to go, Ker?"

I sighed, this was _so_ not right. Just because I wasn't grounded (so said the almighty Professor) he said I still had to go shopping for the food (which almost required the help of an 18-wheeler to get home) to learn to deal with my anger by those that caused it to flare.

All (oh, joy) the victims piled into the Suburban and headed off into town to buy the grocery store out again. There was Bobby-Jerk, Jubilee, Mr. Bishop, and me. Weird combo, I know. I think I saw a stock boy _cry_ when we went last time because he knew the damage we'd do. Also, I think the manager was there with a goofy smile and tears in his eyes, we funded his paycheck (and several bonuses) most likely.

"Get a cart; we're going to be here for a while," Bobby-Jerk sighed, and grabbed his own set of wheels. We broke off into pairs; somehow I got Mr. Bishop who for the most part was quiet. He reminded me of how Batman might act: quiet, big, and just _there_.

Off to the can goods we trudged, last time we started with the frozen stuff and by the time it got back to the mansion most of it thawed or melted. Ever seen a woman go without her ice cream?

Miss Oreo was a very scary woman when her ice cream wasn't available. She started calling people by their full first name, and even threatened to lightning bolt Bobby-Jerk if he ever did that again.

Now I _know_ that the new clothes I had were a far cry from the loose jeans and t-shirts I adored (but no longer had) because these _hugged_ the body. I now owned a pair of jeans that I couldn't even put my hands in my pockets because I would rupture my spleen or something.

Of course the aisle I had to go down was being stocked at the time. And let me inform the world that teenage boys have some of the stupidest lines ever thought up. I wasn't talking about any of the old clichés about signs or anything like that, oh no, this was _so_ much worse.

"Hey, there," came this guy's voice.

Naturally, I didn't think he was talking to me. So I kept browsing the shelves for things needed, and personally wondering if guys really did have a hollow leg.

"Hello?"

Noticing that there was _no_ one else around; I decided to acknowledge him (otherwise known as mistake #1). "Hi."

And that was that, or so I thought.

"I'm Kenney."

"That's nice," I threw more stuff into the cart; "I'm shopping."

"What's your name?"

Was I the only one who loses her mind when confronted with the fact that there was this _stock boy_ trying to get me interested?

"My name?" Again with the intelligent replies. I should go down in the World Book of Records for being the girl who always said the dumbest things. But in this case, I'd let it slide.

"Yeah, you know the word people call you," and get ready for the eye-rolling corny part that made me want to barf, "Well, what the call you besides beautiful."

"Oh brother, " I muttered (my eye rolling was a given), and turned to leave.

He followed (mistake #1 on _his_ part, actually mistake #2 his first one was talking to me with such a dumb line).

"Come on, just tell me your name, what could it hurt?" It wouldn't hurt _me_, but it could hurt _him_ plenty. I'd supervise the hurting. Where was D-M to drool over the guys so they'd slip in the drool puddle and not bug me? I'd _never_ had this sort of attention and it was kind of flattering, but somewhat annoying all at once.

Was this normal? Maybe I should have borrowed some of Daisy's teen things and try to 'relate' to those of my generation-but then again, I liked having an IQ higher than 17.

"Is there a problem?" Came a _deep_ voice that I was _so_ glad to hear.

Me and the stock boy turned around to see the mountain of a man holding an armful of cans, while glaring down at 'Kenney'. If I was on the receiving end of that look I would have prayed I was wearing a diaper, but this guy laughed nervously and turned to leave. I was never so happy to see one of the X-Men butt their nose into my life as I was then. Mr. Bishop snorted and dumped the load in the cart, and sighed heavily as the PA system announced a clean up in the fruits and vegetables-the place Bobby-Jerk and Jubilee where supposed to be.

The next second Mr. Bishop was gone, and Bobby-Jerk was walking to me.

"It was decided that we form new teams."

That translated into that they broke something or they were throwing oranges at each other or something weird like that. This was going to be a _long_ shopping trip. But an evil thought came into my mind as I read some of the list; I made a U-turn and headed straight for the aisle that would be silent payback.

As soon as he turned down the aisle with me and laid eyes on the female 'products' that sent men running for years, Bobby-Jerk suddenly found the ceiling highly interesting.

Life was good.

* * *

"What is it?" Daisy asked as I dragged her to her room. My wings half shielding me as I passed everyone who was hungry enough to help put the food away (so they'd know where the _good_ stuff was). I tried to avoid the mind readers that I knew of, and tried my hardest to think of anything but what was happening.

I didn't let go of her arm until we were in her room with her door shut and locked.

This was my last chance for a while; and I wasn't going to be taking any chances.

I took the package out from underneath my shirt and shoved it into her hands.

"What's this?"

"Something that does _not_ exist." I then opened the door to leave, "You don't know anything about it. Hide them and forget about them. I'll come back later for them."

I then left, hoping that these cookies would not share the same fate as the others.

Why did I hide them? Because like it or not, I know the 'big guys' check out the receipt to make sure nothing 'bad' was purchased. And perhaps they'd notice the cookies, but I wouldn't have them. And they wouldn't find them until they crossed my sugar deprived tongue and splashed down into the pit of my stomach.

* * *

Two days later, there came a knock on the door again.

I said that a lot, but it's better than saying that someone busted through the door while I was half dressed (which also happened but let's not get into that). Answering the door I saw (dun dun dun) Bobby-Jerk.

"The girls are gone and we're hungry, want to come to _Harry's_ with us?"

"But we just bought all that food." Why was I complaining? Why was I fighting this?

"That food is kind of useless to those that are left here. I can't cook, and we don't have enough liquids to take on another Cajun dish from Gambit. Unless you want to make enough food for all the people here….including Chris and Adrian-"

"I'll be right down." I didn't know who or what _Harry's_ was, but maybe it served real hamburgers and not that Soy-crud on a whole wheat bun. My taste buds were in serious need of a work out and low-fat and no-fat weren't cutting it. "Wait!"

Bobby-Jerk turned on his heel (he didn't take long to walk away). "Yeah?"

"I don't have any money."

This, for some reason, made him sorta laugh, "Ker, don't worry about it. I'll cover you."

_Real_ food _and_ for free? Who would turn that down?

* * *

Somehow the women evaporated into thin air, because I was one of the _only_ females present on our little journey. The only other one was Miss Rogue. But (according to the big mouths of the group) Mr. Scott and Mrs. Jean were on a date to make-up because of a huge fight. Miss Oreo, Jubilee, Mr. Warren, and those other people that tended to hang around but I didn't learn their names were 'out' in a sense that they were more than likely beating the snot out of the newest bad guy (which was something else I learned from the little outing group).

I thought the fifteen minute inquisition was bad when Summers made me do it with the other new people, but, boy, was I wrong. _Then_ I had a reason to be paired off, but when it happened without a 'cruise-director' telling us to do it, eyebrows raise and they (anyone watching us) started to tease.

When we got to this _Harry's Hideaway_ I was half starved (and trust me it helps when you have to eat his food). Bobby-Jerk (naturally, someone had to pay for my food), Adrian (who was _also_ getting covered by Bobby-Jerk, I was thinking another stolen credit card), Mr. Remy, Mr. Bishop, Adam, Dr. Hank, Miss Rogue, Chris, and me. D-M dropped off the face of the earth for the day (probably went home to her own planet).

It was bad enough when Dr. Hank started to juggle the empty water glasses, but then we separated in groups after we ate. I _finally_ got caffeine! Dr. Pepper, Coke (though I'm more of a Pepsi drinker to tell the truth), and all the other fizzy drinks I could order. Mr. Meany-Man-_Scott_ wouldn't let me have any carbonated drinks on top of the lack of sweets (which Dr. Hank _refused_ to let me have as dinner!).

Miss Rogue and Mr. Remy went off together (Miss Rogue said it was to keep the sewer rat from looking at any other breathing female), Mr. Bishop disappeared after Bobby-Jerk found the karaoke machine (Dr. Hank stayed with him in case a riot broke out, _right_) and the rest of us drifted down the street where an arcade was.

Adam and Chris went off into the shoot 'em up games in the back, and _yes_ Adrian and I were together trying to get the silly frog across the road. But no luck, it kept ending up as a road Frisbee.

"Man, this bites." I just blew seven dollars on this stupid game, and didn't even win the freaking thing! Argh! Now before anyone started getting odd ideas, me and Adrian were just friends. He was a well, I guess, the mean way to say it would be to label him a wimp, but a total sweetheart. Just seriously lacking in the courage department.

"You want to go distract the others guys until they lose?"

Okay, so he might be kind of cool. But nothing 'oh wow' if anyone knows what I mean (shoot me if I start with the 'like-like' crap, talk about confusing). So that's what we went about doing. Bugging Chris and Adam, believe it or not, I knew I was on Chris' bad side already so pestering him would have been boring. Adam, who thought everything about my mutation was 'wicked cool', was my victim.

Boy, would D-M be jealous!

It was great timing when the older two guys wandered up with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey," Bobby-Jerk then put an arm around Chris and my shoulders, "let's go to the movies, I need a place to hide from the adoring fans that are bound follow me!"

"And their husbands, eh Romeo?"

Oh, brother.

* * *

I thought dinner was bad, try sitting between two guys who get sick kicks out of throwing popcorn ice-balls, and analyzing what combination of concession treats are currently making their shoes stick to the floor. They even dragged Adrian into their conversation, the others smartly sat in front of us. According to Bobby-Jerk and Dr. Hank I had to sit between them to prevent a war from breaking out among the three guys.

I choked on my coke with that comment.

Unfortunately, it was on the back of Chris' head.

Whoops.

I tried to apologize, but it was hard to believe it was sincere since I was laughing and smiling while apologizing to him.


	22. That's with a 'K'

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 022**_

* * *

Ever had one of those dreams you wished you would wake up from but couldn't?

It's not like those dreams where you were with some super hot movie star who were probably going to send a bill for just appearing in your dream, but one who was too good to be true and therefore you rejected it and made it into a nightmare.

That's what this was like.

Everyone called me Sherry Lu? Or was it Mary Sue? Terry Wuu?

I was this drop dead gorgeous well proportioned _babe_ (for lack of any scientific term) who every guy I met fell in love with me on the spot. I was super smart, sweet, and able to solve all the X-men problems. I also had powers that whooped every X-persons' butt without breaking a sweat (or a nail). I was _so_ perfect.

_Too_ perfect.

That's probably why my brain rejected the dream and made it into a nightmare.

Suddenly I had all these normal people chasing me around screaming at me with torches. The flames of their torches were words, that was weird!

I was so thankful when a knock bumped me out of dreamland and back to the reality of my cookie sheets and Stitch.

Unthankfully I noticed my 'blessed' knock came at two fifty eight in the morning.

I had gotten into the habit of locking my door when I went to bed, and therefore was forced by my own stupid ideas to get up and unlock the door. And if there was another person in this world who when they woke up found their brain was still vacationing in Carbo, Mexico for the night, they'll understand. I made my way to the door, which was strangely easy.

Back in my old house, in my old room, I would have stepped or tripped at least four times getting to the door. I was a very typical teenage in the respect that I believed a clean room was a sign of a dirty mind. When my room was messy, I could find anything (and if I couldn't my mom could) but when it's clean I couldn't find my own feet!

I opened the door, with Stitch in hand, "What?" I yawned.

I was greeted with a _happy_, smiling person. Man, I hate morning people.

"You look ready to take on the world."

If the world prevented me from getting back into bed in under five minutes, I'd breathe in its face and let my morning breath kill it.

I was not a morning person. I was a late afternoon person.

"You need to get downstairs ASAP."

"But I was sleeping!" I yawned to emphasis my point.

"Sorry, no more erotic dreams about me tonight, sweetheart."

_What_?

That _pre-_sump-_tious_ ingrate! I was not sure if my feathers ruffled, my cheeks turned beat red, or my jaw dropped first, but they all happened. If I wasn't _so_ shocked, and _so_ tired (and such a bad shot, but let me leave that _out_ of the equation for victory's sake) I would have thrown something at him.

I stepped away from the door in disbelief.

"You're on monitor duty tonight," Bobby-_pervert_ added.

Again, the brilliant genius I was known to be just stood there with her big mouth open staring at this _boy_, but when my brain decided to get back to me, I said the first two things that came to my mind (the first two coherent things), "You're sick! And it's three in the morning!"

"And in a minute it will be three oh one, and at that time you'll be late."

_Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!_

Even worse! A _perverted_ jerk!

A perverted jerk who woke me up at three in morning with sick comments and was telling me I had 'monitor' duty.

What was that anyway? Like hall monitor duty?

* * *

_Oh_ no, I didn't have to stand around in the hall pestering people to get back into bed, that would have made sense. What I got to do was look at TV screens with trees. _Just_ trees and nothing but _trees_.

You think that's the worst part?

The really annoying thing was that I was told I had to sit down there for five stinkin' hours. If it was just me and Stitch (I was tired and he's my buddy) I would have knocked out a _long_ time ago, but there were _two_ people assigned to each shift.

Why on _earth_ did they need _two_ people to watch a bunch of trees?

It wasn't any of the other 'newbies' or even a female, oh no, the same cruel person watching down on me decided to get another chuckle in by making me sit in a tiny room watching tree TV with Mr. Bishop. If this room was any smaller I'd have to put my wings back inside my back!

He was a _huge_ man. He was like a foot taller than me, and about ten feet wider! _Real_ impressive (scary). This was the guy who was supposedly from the future. But back to the trees, me, and Mr. Bishop in the tiny room.

He was all dark and quiet, shuffling through papers, and every time a breeze blew the stupid trees he would glare at the TV. And then it would stop. I would hate to see what he'd do if he ever had to watch the trees when it rained!

Two hours later, I had every squirrel named, and decided that Joey the Nut Collector and Natty the Nutty must have had a bad break up because they kept screeching at each other, while Tommy the Toes chased Natty around, and Joey chased him. I was _so_ bored.

I was close to breaking the silence (shows you just how desperate I was) when he did it for me.

"This is your first night in here?"

Made it sound like a prison term…which to a sleep deprived girl was _exactly_ what it was.

"Yes, sir." Some people you just had to use all those respectable terms with.

"Your mother sent the latest sentinel attack to us."

Ouch, so much for light conversation.

"I-I-that's what everyone thinks," I muttered, my voice trying to stay in my throat.

"Indeed."

Five minutes in silence. Okay, so it was my time to start the next batch of conversation.

"Are you really from the future?" I started to pick at Stitch's ear.

"Yes, from one version of the future."

Dot, dot, dot.

"So, you know what's going to happen to everyone?"

"Not everyone, most are just myths and legends."

"Oh."

That's the end of the conversation; I was dying to ask if he knew what happened to me. But then I started to think that if something _really_ bad happened to me that I just did _not_ want to know. Maybe I'd be brave enough to ask one day, but as for tonight, I checked the clock. Two hours and ten minutes to go before I could hunt down and destroy Natty for cheating on Joey.

I needed a life.

No, I needed sleep and a cookie. A life didn't seem so important when I didn't have either of those.

* * *

"You look horrible."

Why does everyone say that like it's not supposed to be hateful? 'You look like dog vomit' was what they should say, that way it's not hiding under the pretense of a friendly observation. I was in a grumpy mood that day around lunch time. I didn't want anyone to smile at me, I didn't want them to notice me, I would have been back in my bedroom if _Scott_ didn't lock my door _again_. And the Rec. room couch? It was lost to the rear ends of Chris and Adam who were having a video game play off.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Maybe you should get some sleep."

Well why didn't I think of that? Oh wait! I did!

Agh, I needed sugar. I needed sleep. I needed to adjust my shorts, they're starting to hurt.

* * *

Something about being dead tired will make something (good judgment) go right out the door and fly to Jamaica for the world limbo tournament. It made you do things that you never thought were conceivable, say things that you heard from movies to people you usually death glare while their heads are turned. I did something that got me more than grounded; it got me a nick-name that won't wash out with time.

Let me tell you about it.

It was in the late afternoon on the same day that I had gotten _maybe_ a grand total of four hours of sleep (which explained the dancing elephants I kept seeing throughout the day). And I was going after the contraband I had given D-M to hide in her room. It was odd because I wasn't even asked about it, even though I knew they must have seen it on the receipt.

I was on my way back (trying to play it smooth with this square package that was noticeable under my shirt) to the guys dorm, when _he_ appeared out of thin air.

I thought only Mr. Kurt could teleport!

But _no_, Mr. Cookie-Nazi was there with arms crossed, and a smirk plastered so hard on his face. It looked like it hurt to wear it!

"You have something I have to take away, Kerry."

"No, I don't." I replied trying to get around him. Although I've heard him being called 'Slim' this guy was blocking my exit!

"The cookies under your shirt?"

This man was evil incarnate! I huffed and handed over the package.

"I've got to hand it to you, D'mon," what was he a P.E. teacher? "You've got to be the most dedicated kid I've seen in a while. If only you'd show that kind of tact to learn your powers."

With that the evil, _evil_ man walked away.

Normally, as in cookie incidents passed, I would have glared at his back and fussed at him in my mind.

Not this time, baby.

This time I was sleep deprived and ready to act on any foolish notion that waltzed into my brain on the arm of a pink elephant.

And the first step of that foolish notion was to follow the cookie thief.

After he was on the ground floor, as I peeked through the railing of the stairs that the second step came to me. The thing that got me grounded.

I tackled his cookie nabbing behind to the ground.

"_What the_-!"

It was more of a pounce/tackle because I had to jump off the stairs into him.

He was totally taken off guard, and I didn't waste any time for him to get back to his senses. Hefting myself up and off of Summers, I grabbed the cookies from his hands and nearly broke my neck going up stairs.

By this time people seemed to bleed from the walls, because all of a sudden they were there. _Everywhere_.

"What's goin' on out here?" Sam wanted to know.

_Scott_ was getting up, rubbing his neck, and glaring (I guess) at me.

"Kerry! That was _not_ called for."

I was crushing the cookies against my chest as I sat on the second floor returning his glare.

"Yes it was!" This was the part where my brain went _back_ to Carbo and refused to send a postcard to tell my mouth to shut up. "Ever since I got here you've _insulted_ me, _starved _me, stuck me on ice pillars, threw me around in the air, and tried to kill me by _frying_ me in that weird dangerous room thingie. You took away my room and stuck me with the sunshine IT creature for two weeks, made me eat _health_ food with little taste, and if I'm lucky with _no_ taste at all! I think for all that, I have a right to eat! And if I get fat off of this then at least I can be a happy fat person instead of a miserable girl that has to go without! I think it _was_ called for and _you_ are the one that ordered it so _you_ got it!"

I promptly ripped open my cherished cookies and started to shove them in my mouth. They were nothing but large crumbs by then, but _man_ did they taste good. I missed them _so_ much! It took me a while to notice something wasn't right with those around me. To my utter surprise the entire place was deathly quiet and all eyes were on me.

And then, and then someone started to laugh. And then another, pretty soon most of the people present were either laughing or just smiling goofily.

"Don't get in between that girl and her sweets Scott; you might not get your hand back."

"I guess we better start calling you Cookie, huh?"

"That's Cookie with a 'k'," I grumbled, shoveling more food into my mouth.

Unfortunately, later, I got grounded _again_ for disrespecting a superior.

Also, I got a stomachache later that night from eating so many sweets in one sitting.

But I didn't tell them that, nope, no way, no how, I was _not_ going to let them have that sort of satisfaction!


	23. School Daze

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 023_**

* * *

Little Miss Happy had the _nerve_ to call me a _flirt_.

Chris and I were throwing insults at each other in the first floor 'formal sitting room' when she walked in and just stood there. It was a commercial so her standing in front of the TV wasn't really a big deal.

"Butt monkey."

"Litter box dweller."

Daisy then chirped in, "You two are _so_ funny."

"Go away happy weed."

"What do you want?" I snapped. I was upset enough with being insulted!

Daisy did the creepy thing; she just put on this smug look and shook her head. "You two _do_ realize what you're doing right?"

"Fighting?" Chris asked, you could just _see_ the sarcasm dripping from him.

D-M giggled.

A smug, giggling Daisy-Mae, I think I just got a new nightmare for tonight. _Creeepy_!

"Leave her alone, zit juice."

"_OOOoohhh_, I'm _so_ hurt," he paused, "Pimple licker."

_Boys_! But that wasn't as bad as what was said next.

"I thought only junior high kids flirted like that!" D-M chirped.

I think my jaw was going to get bruised, because it dropped to the ground-I think I even heard it _thud_ when it hit.

Daisy laughed at her own remark, but she didn't laugh long as two pillows smacked her upside the head.

* * *

If ever I complained about having to do dishes due to a punishment given to me by that vindictive bald man in a wheelchair, I must remind myself to shut-up. It would be _so_ much better than _this_!

My punishment was meant to make sure I didn't disrespect any other people who out ranked me. This coming from the same guy who said every man is equal…if we are all equal then how the heck could I be out ranked?

"Come on kid, you're slowing down." The drill sergeant known as Wolverine barked as I passed him, panting, tripping, and cursing everyone I could think of in the mansion. I was running around the poles this short man put up, and he was making me run laps around them.

He said to 'build up' my muscles.

I think they wanted me to drown in my sweat.

"Haha," Came a _very_ annoying noise from the side. Glancing over in that direction, I was three times as embarrassed. There, in all there spandex stood the other 'lower' half of the household. Chris was the one who made the remark, Daisy waved, Adrian raised an eyebrow, and Adam looked like he wanted to join me.

Of course it looked like Adam had never met the sun!

"Okay, you can stop," And with those words I crashed.

Literally. I stopped running, hit my knees, and fell face first into the grass.

"It was just a little run, _Koo-key,_" D-M needed to be shot. Or maybe dropped on her head, I didn't care. As long as it was painful.

"Come over here with the rest of the group."

That's about when I started to pray that the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

Didn't happen.

In fact, Mr. Nature Lover Logan decided that the best way to get us prepared for the field (I don't know, and didn't ask what he meant by that) was to try to _hunt_ each other.

Great.

Now, I was a dog.

A dog with wings that he tried to reason I would have a better advantage of being the 'last survivor' of the game if I could actually use the 'buzzard wings'.

He's such an elegant man-couldn't imagine why he didn't have his own talk show.

So like little red riding target, I headed (_very_ slowly) into the woods, my feet, wings, and hinny dragging. I wanted them to take me out as soon as huma-mutantly possible. Then Mr. Cruel and Unusual added that the losers were up for a five mile jog when the game was over.

That motivated a lazy girl like nothing else.

Everyone started off at different spots. I was in the middle of nowhere, and I think that's where everyone else was, too. I was also thinking that this was just a way of keeping us busy while the X-peoples kicked back and had a good laugh about the little kids sent to track each other down.

"There you are!" I _almost_ yelped, but instead, I did a 360 looking for who said that. Instead of finding anyone, I saw some commotion behind me. I really needed to put that annoying kitten of curiosity to sleep or _something_, because then I would have had the sense enough to run in the _other_ direction.

But remember I was a _genius_ (haha) and went _to_ the noise, like a stupid little girl.

There was a big _green_ thing, and Chris.

Naturally I was rooting for the big green alligator looking thing.

That was, until, Chris suddenly turned into a live wire.

I don't think my eyes could have gotten any larger.

"Wanna try me?" Chris asked, these white _painful _looking things shooting off of him, something told me to run, and for once I listened to it.

_Of_ course, next time I tell myself where to run, I really mustn't go face first into the _bark_ of a _tree_. When would I stop making a living idiot out of myself?

* * *

"Hey, I think the swelling is going down!" D-M sang out three days later. I was still nursing my tree-caused injury (which meant I was one of the losers, which meant I had to run 5 miles-as soon as I stopped seeing double).

"Thanks," I muttered. I was in my room, ice pack on my head, and a forgotten book on my stomach. That's when I seemed to remember I was in _my_ room. I cracked an eye open, "What're you doing in here?"

"_Ohh_! Ah almost forgot!" Like that would be hard, "Ah came to tell you that we are going to get our schedules for this school year!"

Only _she_ would be happy about something like that. Me? I groaned and rolled over, grabbed a pillow and threw it over my head. Couldn't the world just go away?

"Come on! It ain't goin' to be that bad! In fact, Bobby said that there was a surprise on each of our schedules! But he's not telling' us," she giggled at this as she sat down on the edge of my bed.

Removing the pillow momentarily, I studied her, "You like him, don't you?"

"Of course Ah do! He's my friend!" Uh-huh, if he was just her friend her face wouldn't be turning the lovely shade of red!

"I mean, you _like_ him, like him." Note to self, stop watching so much _Hey, Arnold_!

"A-Ah have to go! Just be ready to get the schedules tonight!" And poof, like genie she sprinted out of my room and into the hall.

This was going to be _so_ much fun!

* * *

This was a living nightmare!

Not _only_ did I have to get slapped in the face with the fact that I had to go back to school, but I had to meet that Kenney guy _again_. Wouldn't you know, he went to the stupid private school as well! Let me start with the car trip _to_ the school.

"This _so_ rocks!"

Honestly, who used that word anymore?

Daisy had to be the only kid who I have ever heard of to be _happy_ to go back to school. Of course, if I was at school, I was away from Summers and Bobby-Pervert. I was away from being thrown off a roof and told to fly (who did they think I was, Peter Pan?). Ever since I sacked Summers, I had been doing dishes and called Kookie. K-O-O-K-I-E. D-M thought she'd be funny and call me 'kooky' which didn't stick.

It's better than Grace I supposed. It was a joke at first but most of the people were starting to actually calling me it like it's my name! Like it's my codename or something! Couldn't you just see that on a battlefield? 'I am Phoenix!' 'I am Cyclops!' and then me: I am Kookie! I shall…crumble you? Oh _that_ would strike terror into the hearts of people let me tell you!

Speaking of nicknames and terror, I accidentally called Daisy-Mae 'D-M' out loud, and she went crazy. It was just '_so_ cute!' and therefore insisted I call her it all the time.

"Ah can't believe it's already time to go back to school!"

Oh joy. Where did the summer go? I know being dropped from the air, and being grounded scared a lot of my life out of me, but I still didn't know where all the time went!

"Whatever, D-M."

She did this _really_ annoying high pitched squeal thing, "That is SUCH a cute nickname!"

Not the first nickname I would have chosen, but I was already grounded for a month and in a foul mode, so I kept my big fat mouth in check for once.

"Glad you like it?"

"Except you know, _Kookie_, yours is _much_ better." Daisy then sighed, acting as if there was _no_ one else in the car.

"Why is that, because I'm named after food?"

"No, because you had a gorgeous man give it to you." I glared at her as she twisted around in the passenger seat to look at me. "_Oh_ come on! Ah _like_ to see the single men in their cute tight outfits! You just have to know when to walk down the halls; they are just to _die_ for. And I think that Bobby is _so_ hot for being an _ice _man."

She was a sick, sick girl in need of a lot of mental help. A thought struck me, "D-M, is your room clean?"

"Spotless since you left."

Yup, definitely a sign that she had a _dirty_ mind. That's when the boys got _back_ into the car, and oh yeah, Bobby-Pervert was driving us. And _no_ way did Daisy-Mae just confess his level of 'hotness' in the car, we were getting gas and the guys invaded the store.

Somewhere between the mansion and the school, they found their appetites-_again_.

Later in the car ride, things stayed just about as cruel and unusual as they started off.

"_Save me_!" Chris cried. I was too busy plugging my ears with my fingers to hear what anyone else said, but _him_ I heard.

"I called radio, if you don't like it then jump out the window for all Ah care." Daisy shot back.

We were going to get our schedules, Chris, D-M, Adrian and me. While we had the short journey there D-M decided to test her new 'no escape' torture method.

Lady Gaga's newest CD, where she sings classic country songs in _her_ style.

If Chris wasn't going to jump out of the window, I might try!

Or better yet, if the other three and the driver ganged up on her, we could shove _her_ through the window.

I think she'd bounce, but then again, during the rendition of 'Stand By Your Man' I could _really_ have cared less.

Then when we _finally_ got to the school (which was packed with cars that probably cost more than my mother's home), only D-M took her time getting out, the rest of us made a mad dash for it.

That's where _he_ was.

Kenney Reid Yohalm.

Ick.

Triple ick.

I didn't recognize him, but, sadly, he did me. And just _knew_ I would want to meet him again.

_Sheyeah_, right.

Me and Adrian (since my name begins with a 'D' and his a 'C') were at the same table waiting in the non-moving line of kids and griping parents in business suits on cell phones.

Daisy-Mae was stuck with Chris and the A-B table, and Bobby-Pervert made himself scarce. Wonder why?

"Hey, there!" Came the one known as persistent. "You're the girl from the grocery store, right?"

Adrian tipped his head to the side as Yohalm waltzed up to us. "Who's this?"

I shrugged and gladly stepped another baby step up as the line inched forward.

"Don't be so shy, babe." Kenney said. I felt my face get that 'what-did-you-just-say' expression, I did _not_ like the term 'babe' never had never would. "Eh, I've got her intrigued."

"Probably annoyed," Adrian corrected.

I shifted my glare for a moment to him, and his face was just like I thought mine was: expressionless and bored.

I'd never seen him like that.

"Watch out, guy, you're jealousy's showing," Kenney shot back, "I can't stay and talk to you, babe."

_Harder glare._

"But I will get to know you more, and I will get that name." With that he winked, shot a nasty look at Adrian and walked away. Praise for that! It wouldn't be until later that I got his name. Apparently this K'Yo was the school 'hottie' in D-M's words. And to be noticed by him was a _big_ deal in her book. He reminded me of another boy I knew, named Danny. Danny only went out with girls to get another notch on his headboard.

"Name?" The teacher asked boredly as we _finally_ reached the table.

"D'Mon, Kerry."

"Here." She shoved a piece of paper at me, and I waited for Adrian while trying to read the very light text. Man, this school was cheap! Hadn't they heard of _black_ ink? Did the administration get some sort of sick kick out of making the students blind while trying to read these things?

"Got it, let's go," Adrian's Canadian accent came out thick.

But he couldn't move me.

My eyes landed, and focused on a name on the schedule that popped off the page and laughed at me.

Business Math, it read under the subject. Under the line of instructor was the name: R. Drake.

As in _Robert_ Drake.

As in _Bobby-pervert_.

He was going to be _one of my teachers_!


	24. SpAnDeX!

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 024**_

* * *

I just stared at it.

What else was I supposed to do with it?

It wasn't going to move or anything, but it was just so threatening that I didn't want to take my eyes away from it for even a moment. Its headless neck smirked at me, just _daring_ me to say something wicked to it.

It came into my room when I wasn't there to prevent it from coming (I am a clean Kerry and believe in soap, unlike _some_ people I could think of). I had been drying my hair when I looked at my beloved bed, and _it_ was on my bed looking back at me.

Our staring contest was going to end with me the winner (_it_ didn't have any eyes to begin with, but I digress). It was black and red and just _there_…on my bed.

Whoever had put it in there had a streak of cruelty. They placed _it_ in such a way that the arms were spread out and the length was shown, as well as what it was missing.

It looked like a bathing suit with sleeves.

And an 'X' on the right of _it_.

"Cool, you found yours, too." Adrian remarked, coming into my room. "I think they were going for a Matrix look or something."

I glanced at him. He was dressed in a black and gold one like _it_ on my bed. That's not true, his had more material.

"I'm supposed to _wear_ that?"

"Got that right, chubby thighs," came Chris' reply, I only glared at him. "You put _that_ on, go down to the Danger Room, and get your butt kicked from here to San Francisco."

Oh no, they were not putting me in _that_! No way! Last time I was in something that revealing I was-well, I was swimming.

I went to the Danger Room all right, with _it_ in hand, not on. The others made remarks (okay, so only Chris and D-M made remarks but anyway) when I shuffled my way quietly into the Control Room (a.k.a. Torture Headquarters) where _Scott_, the vindictive little bald man (Professor, I was _not_ going to forgive him for that 5 mile, four o'clock in the morning jog) and some others were there.

I must have quite a presence (I couldn't have stunk, I just took a shower) because they all got quiet.

That was eerie enough to make me lose my backbone.

"You're supposed to be on the floor with the others, Kerry." _Now_ I knew I was in trouble, over the past two weeks _Scott_ had gotten into the habit of calling me 'Kookie' like the others. My real name means real trouble. And for some reason I had this instant freeze factor when someone got authoritative with me. And yes, that's what happened. My anger got put out with the 'glare-of-power' from the Professor, and my tongue became a dead fish in my mouth.

It didn't want to work, but it made me sound _real_ intelligent, "I-uh-I-don-"

"She has _such_ a way with words," Bobby-Pervert remarked, giving me that 'you-can't-say-anything-to-me-while-their-listening' smirk.

"Is there a problem with your uniform, Kerry?"

Yeah, there's only half of it here!-that's what the inner me said. How dumb was I to forget that the inner me could be heard by this lovely little Professor. Oy.

"We had it designed that way for when you need to shed your outer skin the cloth wound not be a hindrance."

"Okay." I'd give him the logical, but I didn't want to give everyone a show! I was raised a _bit_ better than that!

For some reason Mrs. Jean choked on her water as I thought this, maybe this inner voice wasn't such a bad thing to have eavesdropped on from time to time.

"I can assure you your modesty won't be at stake."

Scratch that.

_This_ caused a snort from one or two of the higher ranked people, and a blush to dominated my face. My tongue became _completely_ useless at that point.

"Prof, I don't think she's ready to go in there."

Bless you, Mr. Warren!

"I think she needs to step up on her flight training before she can do any simulations."

Scratch that last remark. Evil man!

Professor did his famous eyebrow raise thing, and agreed. I didn't have to wear the revealing thing _yet_.

Yet…ha! Like they were _ever_ going to get me into it!

Somehow I think they could.

I also think they could smell fear.

Scary.

* * *

I stood at the edge of the rooftop and looked down below.

I have done this so many times I was ready to just jump and show them that my wings were not functional. For some _strange_ reason they said after four months of being here I should be able to do _something _with them (the wings, not the X-Men).

Well, yeah, that was _their_ opinion, not mine.

But then they pulled something _again_.

I was standing there, listening to Mr. Warren grumble and complain about why I should just jump, and before I could think, this blast comes out of nowhere and _Bam_! I was off the building.

In other words, I was _falling_.

And screaming, how could I forget that I was also screaming?

But something unexpected happened.

I was in the air!

No, not by my own means, but by a bright light that goes about a thousand miles an hour, it was Sam!

"Come on! It ain't so hard!" He said, shooting up into the sky, and then _dropped_ me.

Again, I was falling, and again I was screaming.

But this time he didn't come.

Oh _crap_.


	25. Final Break

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 025**_

* * *

My name was Kerry Michelle D'mon, almost five months ago I began to mutate. My mother being who she was, rejected her mutant daughter and I went to live with the X-Men ever since. I grew wings, and got a new physical build as well as internal changes. I was deprived of sweets from day one, and finally conquered the sweet tooth cravings when I tackled/body slammed the leader of the X-Men, Cyclops, to the ground. And because of my personal self-image, I refused to wear a spandex uniform that looked rather painful, not to mention it probably would have ridden up in some rather _unpleasant _areas of my anatomy. Because of this, I was forced to take more flying lessons with Mr. Warren, which was where I was when Sam came by, took me into the air, and dropped me.

Now as for the present day, one doesn't have to have too much of an imagination to guess what I was doing at that precise second.

_I was screaming my head off!_

_Forget_ the calm and peaceful act; I was seeing my life flash before my eyes! And man was it depressing and boring. I guess I never knew how boring it was because I was living it, but it was soon to be over because Sam wasn't coming to get me. I didn't hear or see any guy's sporting white feathers either. Both a blessing and a curse I supposed.

"_Open your wings_," someone screamed.

It sounded like a great plan except _one_ minor, itsy bitsy draw back…I was falling back first toward that lovely and _hard_ thing everyone called the Earth.

So instead of listening to that, I, being me, continued to scream my brains out.

"_Gotcha_!" Came a voice as all of my weight shifted from my stomach to under my arms. But did that mean I went back to the ground? _No_. That would make too much sense. Instead she (Miss Rogue) shot up and looped (like my stomach needed _that_!) then brought me back down. Actually she dropped me from about five feet in the air and let me roll.

You know how hard it was to roll with _wings_?

"What is the meaning of this?" Came a _very_ angry sounding Professor Xavier (who I was now, basically kissing his feet).

"Ouch," I muttered, getting up from the embarrassing face in the dirt position into a sitting one.

"Sir, Ah was just tryin' to—" Sam tried to explain, but Mr. Warren cut him off. Mr. Warren was angry and pretty soon, everyone forgot about the black haired girl who just had the what, second, third scare of her young life?

Yes, I was fine. Once I swallowed my stomach and got my heart beating again. Thanks for your concern everybody!

"I want you in my office in ten minutes, Samuel."

Whoa. Sam was in mucho trouble if the Professor started to whip out the full names. Sam nodded, and then most everyone who had come out, went back in, some clicking their tongues and all of them having this 'poor guy' look in their eyes.

Excuse me for being a bit selfish, but didn't I matter a _bit_? I just had the feathers scared off of me!

"Come on Kookie, you're not going to sit out here all night are you?"

Of course, the only one I didn't want to recognize me would.

I groaned and fell backward.

* * *

"I have never believed you capable of such reckless maneuvers before, Cannonball. You were taught better than that. Having once been a leader of X-Force, you should know what an ill conceived plan it was you hatched this evening." Professor practically yelled. I swear you could _feel_ the anger.

Ha-ha, he said 'hatched' and I have wings. The man was such a comedian. I felt my eyes roll as I leaned a bit further out my window.

Oh, did I forget to mention that my room was _right_ above the Professor's office?

It was, which meant no wild parties for me (listen to me; I was as funny as he was-ha-ha).

One drawback to this newly discovered place of interest was that I wasn't the only one who found out about it. I had a guest who stood next to my window seat (where my lazy, and SORE hind end was) with his arms crossed.

"Samuel," Even Miss Oreo was in on this? "We are trying to get the children," –_growl_- "to grow into their powers to push them without being pushy."

"We understand what you were trying to do, it's just we want you to rethink your methods of helping," commented the Conquered-Cookie-Snatcher Summers. Boy-o-boy, they didn't do anything by themselves did they?

"Ah getcha, Ah'm sorry for bein' a free thinker. Ah guess Ah'll just go back to being a little toy soldier that y'all dust off and wind up when necessary!" And so on, Sam ranted for about another minute before the Professor cut him off and told him he had monitor duty for a month, and an extra ten hours requirement in the Danger Room per week for three months.

"Ouch," came my uninvited companion's reply.

"Yeah." Two seconds after that a big, bright, and fast thing took off from the mansion like a rocket, and into the sky.

Guess Sam wasn't happy with the verdict.

"If he tries to assist Kerry in her training again, make it three and six months." Professor continued. Uhm, I guess he didn't see Sam go bye-bye.

"Sir, don't you think you're being a bit harsh?"

_Gasp!_

_Shock!_

_Heart failure!_

_Scott_ went against what the Professor said? His holy and anointed _Professor?!_ _Whoa_!

"Someone could have gotten hurt, you know…" blah blah blah. Sorry, but he went into his dream speech again. About how mutants needed to control their powers, so they could be an active part of society and so on and so forth. I have repeatedly said I have a short attention span, and this proved it!

"Poor guy," _he_ said after I shut the window. I had to agree, poor Sam. He was only trying to kill-I mean, _help_ me.

* * *

_Argh_!

It wasn't bad enough that _I_ carried my guilt, but I got other's guilt laid on me. _First_ thing this morning when I was told I had to start my muscle building exercises again with Farmer Summers, and he was _harsh_ and made me do things that my body was _not_ supposed to do. It was then that _Scott _chose to mention how horrible Sam appeared this morning after having monitor duty all night.

Thank you, Mr. Compassionate.

And as if that wasn't enough, Mr. Warren was also getting on the case o' Kerry (Kookie, whatever). Saying that if I had just learned to fly, Sam wouldn't be in trouble and I wouldn't feel guilty because there would be nothing to feel guilty about. By this time I was losing some guilt and adding annoyance.

After another failed class of flying lessons, I bumped into the sugar coated, chocolate dipped girl herself. D-M then had the nerve to say the whole thing was my fault.

"It's not like I _asked_ him to drop me, you know!"

No more pity, just pure annoyance.

"Oh puh-_leese_. You are _such_ a wuss."

"And you are _such_ a pest."

"At least I'm a pest that can use her powers!"

And then she walked away. All I could do was glare at her back, like I was Mr. Sacked Summers able to blast her into dust or something. Which at that point in time I wouldn't have minded.

I'm starting to wish I could use these things, that way I could fly away from this place.

Or away from the scene of the crime.

* * *

A few days later (and still stewing in my own juices) I was flipping through the channels ninety clicks a second. They had almost seven hundred channels, in all sorts of languages, and there was nothing worth watching on. It was funny to be down here when one of them was trying to dub a foreign movie themselves. They came up with some _crazy_ things.

But back to the flipping, I had gotten on D-M and Adam's nerves with the constant channel changing and so I was in the room by myself. Well, almost, until someone came in, flopped down on the couch I was on and just looked at me.

I was going to ignore it, but they just kept staring and I was already roughed up by the whole 'Sam-dropping-me-to-my-death-and-therefore-it's-my-fault' thing.

"_What_!"

"I came to talk to you."

More talking less staring! Talk to me while you looked at the television like any person would!

"About?"

"Sam."

"If you came to chew me out, save it. I've heard everything that anyone has to say on the subject."

He held up his hands in surrender, but the boyish smile (that one that most girls didn't have immunity to) ruined the helpless effect.

"I didn't, I swear!"

I lifted an eyebrow (I think I was picking up bad habits from the Professor). "Okay, then."

"Why don't you learn to fly?"

I almost fell off the couch. What an _idiot_! Learn to fly, pshaay, sure no prob. Let me go jump off the cliff and to my death.

"Don't look at me like that," he stated, I just kept giving him my best 'your-a-moron' glare. "Really, think about it. If you learn to fly in the next, let's say two days. You can bail Sam out by giving him all the credit for it."

Oh sure, it sounded easy when you say it, but try _doing_ it. It was a totally different matter.

"Uh-huh, and when did _you_ ever have to learn to fly?"

Again, that smile. "Never. My powers don't work that way, but if you want to see Sam suffer…"

I glared at him again. You'd think I unplugged Sam's life support or something the way everyone was carrying on!

* * *

I just had a thought, totally unrelated to anything and everything that had happened recently, but it still got into my brain. And my kitten of curiosity started to play with it.

Where exactly did all my failed cookie smuggling attempts go? Sweet-Sniffer-outter Summers always found them out, but what did he _do_ with them?

All I could picture was him in his underwear eating a handful of _my_ Oreos and chocolate chip cookies while guzzling milk straight from the carton complete with Snoopy boxers (gross), flabby belly, and crumbs dropping all over him and his nasty plaid couch. Yeah, that's it!

I didn't know what kind of furniture they had at the boathouse, but I was just using my imagination. Unfortunately I was using my imagination at the dinner table and Mrs. Jean (who was _way_ across the table from me) simply said their couch was red, not plaid and to think Scooby-Doo, not Snoopy.

I was getting a solid opinion that telepaths were no fun.

But then again, Mrs. Jean had everyone confused at the table with her little comments.

Still, this wonderment about where my contraband snuck off had to be discovered!

* * *

"Are you excited about the new school year?"

That has got to be one of the dumbest questions to ask a teenager. It's like asking a convict if he's ready for the electric chair.

"No."

"Aw, why not?" This was Bobby-Pervert having recently invaded my private space that was the entire Rec. room. "I heard you have a gorgeous math teacher this year."

A smirk from me, "So you're not going to be teaching it anymore?"

"Ha-ha."

Yes! One point for Kookie! For Bobby-Pervert-er, well, let's not discuss that number.

* * *

Two things happened when I _really_ think about something (which didn't happen often because I couldn't pay attention to anything very long). First, I dazed out and become completely dumb and blind to the world around me. Second, I drummed my fingers on anything that made noise.

The first one no one seemed to mind, but the second one, apparently got on people's nerves.

"Would you _please_ stop doing that?"

Think, think, think.

Hand over mine, _that'll_ snap me to attention. "Huh?"

"That is starting to get irritating," Mr. Bishop stated flatly. Adam removed his hand, and sighed, I bet he rolled his eyes as well but he never took off his sunglasses. Must be a sign of tribute to Mr. Cool-Shades Summers.

"Sorry."

"What's up with you anyway? You're out of it, even more than usual." I _know_ Adrian did _not_ mean that to be an insult, but still, I didn't like it at first.

"I'm thinking."

"That would explain the smoke billowing out of your ears."

Order up! One death glare served to Bobby-Pervert.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" In case you're wondering, I was in the big study at the end of the male dormitory (along with all the males). Something about blue fuzz in the shower stales, and the toilet that wouldn't stop flushing, _and_ to get some people from freezing everyone when they beat them to one of the two working showers (normally there were four, but the blue fuzz was an issue in those cases).

"Nothing."

"So, you are concentrating on thinking about nothing."

Smart aleck. And then the 'meeting' was called to order, which meant I went back to thinking. I _had_ to be the nice one on this go around of problems. I had to see that Sam got _out_ of trouble, gave him the credit for me learning to fly, but there was one problem.

I still wouldn't fly.

Couldn't get him out of trouble until I could use my wings. Couldn't use my wings until I trusted them. Couldn't trust them as long as I was sane…this was definitely going to be a problem. I didn't hear two words that _Scott _said, but that was a given, pretty soon the meeting was let out, and the genius girl (ha-ha) still stayed.

Knowing how dumb I could be at any given moment, I probably would have stayed in that room all day had not someone started to talk to me directly.

"D'mon," Whoa, I looked up at Mr. Bishop, and my mouth went dry. I must be in trouble for _him_ to talk to me. "If you are vexed about the Cannonball issue, I suggest that you go out on your own with your learning."

Okay, he lost me after my last name. "I don't-"

"When you have one of the people who are able to fly, you know you do not have to try it by yourself. You have people to catch you, perhaps try having to rely only on yourself, and then maybe you will be able to fly."

Then he left. The little-hah, _big_ fountain of crazy ideas left.

I started to drum my fingers again.

* * *

"_Why_ are you following me!" I shouted over my shoulder _again_.

"Because I know you're going to get lost."

"I wish _you_ would!" Ack, I didn't like being followed. I wanted out of the mansion (yes, I was still grounded, but I was going stir crazy), and I did _not_ want to be followed. But no matter _how_ many times I told this guy to politely bug off, he didn't take the flippin' hint! That's when I got ugly. Honestly, how hard was it to follow a path back and forth through the forest?

I might not be the best with directions, but I am not a complete idiot.

"Go away!" I yelled after a few more minutes.

"Why?"

"You are so aggravating!"

"Well, that's okay."

"Boys," I grumbled, and pushed on ahead. I wasn't going to get to try _anything_ today.

* * *

I was standing at the edge of the mansion again, Mr. Warren having given up a while ago, was flipping through a magazine behind me. He said when I was ready I'd be ready, but until then he was going to use this time as getting out of _Scott's_ way.

This was where I was two days ago, looking over the edge when Sam blasted by and pushed me off. This was where everything _his _actions became _my_ fault (I was still trying to figure that one out).

According to my instructor (ha-ha), I was supposed to be out here an hour and a half.

Needless to say, he brought a _lot_ of magazines.

"Anytime you're ready, Kookie." I told you that name spread like wildfire in the mansion. At least it wasn't something like bubble butt or worse.

"I have a question."

"I might have an answer."

It had been bogging my brain for quite sometime, and I finally had the nerve to ask. I would have questioned someone I was more comfortable with but there weren't many in the mansion who I spent more time with than Mr. Warren, and he was the only that could answer my unique question.

"Do-am I-going to malt?"

This caused him not only to burst out laughing, but also for the magazines to go sliding down the rooftop. And apparently on top of someone because there came a string of curses from below.

Didn't think it was that funny.

But I really wanted to know if I was going to get in trouble like Dr. Hank with his fur! Were my feathers going to clog the drain as well?

* * *

It was now or never.

Either I did this or not.

But it was hard to want to do something that could lead to my death! Jumping off a cliff wasn't exactly my idea of sane fun. Sure I had wings, but they didn't work! It wasn't like everyone who had the choice of jumping off a cliff had a fifty percent chance of survival! Most have _none_.

I whimpered as I looked over the rocky edge of the cliff. I was completely alone out in the middle of nowhere on Xavier's School grounds. No one around, no one to save me if I didn't get it right. Just me.

Just like Mr. Bishop told me to do.

The more I saw of the _way_ faraway ground below, and the more I thought of the big mountain of a man, the less _flighty_ experience I remembered him having!

What would he know about flying!?

I could walk away (like any one with sanity or a will to live would have done), let everyone think that I was a scared little girl, and one who would never be fit enough to be anything but a whiner. Not that anyone had ever come out and said that to me, but sometimes you just knew. The longer I took the more people gave up on me, and _that's _annoying.

I'd never been the wimp; I'd always been strong enough for myself. I was the net for my sister and mother (the one who hated me) when the news came that my dad was dead. I had to be there for them, and I never got my chance to really mourn because I was too busy being the good daughter, and the brave big sister.

Did anyone _really_ realize how _tiring _that was?

"You're starting to sound like one of the X peoples, _Kookie,_" I told myself, shaking my head.

But I guess this was the final (crazy, perhaps cause of _death_) break from my family.

A chill ran across my skin with that thought.

Was that why I'd been so reluctant? Because as soon as I used my powers, I was just what my mom hated? When in the _world_ did I get so philosophical? When had I started to think in words in more than two syllables? Why did I get off my train of thought?

This was really it, if I stepped off the cliff three things could happen, a) I could die (_really_ not looking forward to _that_), b) I fly and prove to everyone back in the mansion that I could be taught, that I wasn't a completely useless type person and finally and fully accept that I was a mutant, or c) _not_ step off the cliff, and quit.

Deep breath.

"Okay, Ker, no big deal. You've stepped off lotsa things in your life—mostly because there wasn't a chance of you falling to your death-_nonono_! Think positive!" Okay, I was _positive_ I was going to fall to my death…oh _that_ helped.

Standing at the edge of a very long fall, it reminded me of back home. We were at the pool, Darcy and me, she dared me to go on to the high dive and being a wanna-be show off to my little sister, I did it. Of course, just like now, I completely froze once at the edge. Most of the people teased me (I was only twelve) but Darcy kept yelling at me to do it. Easy for her to say, _she_ was in the water already! I had to hurt myself to get back into the water.

'You'll never be able to brag about it until you _do _it!'

I smirked, yeah, my little sister knew me too well.

One more deep breath, my wings opened, and I jumped.

And fell.

* * *

"Whoa! Kookie! Where's the fire?" I didn't have time to throw around insults with Bobby-blockhead. I had to find Sam! But he being a typical _jerk_ stood in the door way of the men's dorm, where, according to a confused Mr. Remy was where he saw the 'hayseed' stagger off to earlier.

"Move it!" I fumed, stomping my foot like a typical angry Kerry. ( I had to stop listening to Mr. Remy so much, he talked in third person therefore Kerry-I mean _I_ was beginning to do it as well!)

"Ut-uhn, you didn't say the magic word."

I growled at him, not a Mr. Logan-someone-took-the-last-alcoholic-beverage (aka, run for the hills because he's about to say things that are going to make your ears bleed) growl, but a you-are-_so_-annoying type growl.

"Go melt yourself."

He did that clicking tongue thing, "Is that anyway to talk to your teacher?"

Oh he just _had_ to bring that back up!

* * *

"This had better be important." Mr. Sugar-Tooth Summers complained, crossing his arms. I stood by the recently discovered Sam who was just as baffled to be out here as the others in charge were.

"Relax, Slim, I'm sure Jean will record the Three Stooges Marathon for you." I didn't have a _clue_ why Bobby-Jerk was out here or Daisy, Chris, _or_ Adrian for that matter. I only wanted my teachers and those that out ranked me to see this.

"It won't take long." I asked Sam to take me up. The Professor did his famous eyebrow arch move, but nodded his consent, even though Sam wasn't supposed to be around me at all because of him trying to drop me to my death last.

But you already knew that.

"Are you sure about this, girl?" Sam questioned once we were in the clouds (remember, 'hayseed' was _super_ fast).

"Just play along and you won't have to put up with Natty and the others anymore!" He gave me a funny look. Ooops, I guess I never related the story about my squirrel soap opera. So instead of going into details I gave a 'whoops-I-said-something-dumb' smile and then pushed away from him.

"Since when can you do _that_?" Sam asked, his eyes almost leaving his skull as I (with a _lot_ of effort) flapped my wings (my whole body was bruised might I add, from doing this earlier today).

"Since you _taught_ me to."

"Huh?" Since we were still up in the air, I didn't think it would hurt to explain to him the reason _why_ I was suddenly able to fly after months of whining and complaining that I was going to fall to my death.

"I did this so _you'd_ get out of trouble." Not to mention I still sorta had an itsy bitsy crush on this cute guy in front of me, but I didn't decide to discuss that with him at the moment. Bad timing for something like that—I think. I had no clue. "I go down there, give you the credit, and you're off the hook, right?"

Half smile, "Sure Ah'm up for anythin' that will get me away from the monitors."

And that's that.

* * *

Don't you hate it when I cut scenes? Oh well, needless to say the X-peoples were pretty surprised (and thrilled that they didn't have to ram the reasons why I should fly against my thick skull anymore) about my abilities. Mr. Warren about pitched a fit because I gave most of the credit to Sam, but I basically begged him (with a look only us girls can give) not to make _too_ much of a fuss about it. I explained the reasons later.

But there were some downfalls to this adventure.

One, I _still_ had to do my flying lessons with Mr. Warren every day after school to get used to picking _up_ things, diving, and learning to speed up and yadda yadda. Oh and learn how to land….so I wouldn't have to get so banged up next time I tried ( it was when I got all my lovely bruises).

Second, I had to go into the Dangerous room thing, and 'participate in team exercises' oh _that_ should be fun.

Third, Sam got off of monitor duty-_and now I had it!_

This stinks! Try and do something nice for someone and _they_ get off the hook and I got put on it like a stupid worm! _Argh_!

_And_ fourth, and literally the least and yet one of the major upsets, I had to wear that 'thing' they call a uniform _in_ public. In front of people who actually looked good in that type of get up!

Life was _so_ not fair right.

And! And! I started school next Monday! I had to go find a large window to jump out of. But now that I could sort of fly, it wouldn't do anything but get me flying around in circles and tumbling (hurting) myself when I landed.

My head hurt, I'd been thinking too much!


	26. Not this again!

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 026**_

* * *

**Chapter 26: Not this again!**

* * *

Us 'kids' decided to hold a meeting, and much to my amazement, it was in Adrian's room.

It was the only room occupied by one of us where you could actually _saw_ the floor. Why were we together all in one place and by choice? Simple. We were seeing which classes we had together and which ones we were free from each other.

Of course, Chris was late and when he looked at me he just busted out laughing.

"What's your problem?"

"Not a thing, _Koo_-key."

Okay, no more caffeine for him.

Back to the classes, so far it seemed okay, not the greatest, but okay nonetheless. I had English with D-M (joy), and Western Civilization all four had together, and get this, _home economics _with _Chris _and _Adrian._

Ha! _Chris_ learning how to cook and clean and be little Sammy Homemaker! Hah!

I had Business Math with R. Drake, and Adrian who didn't seem the least bit concerned over having a housemate as a teacher. The others had classes together, but it really didn't concern me in the least. I found out what I wanted to know, oh and we all had Bobby-Pervert for whatever math class was on our schedules.

Fun-o-fun.

And just to put my life in a _real_ tailspin about school, D-M brought out those ugly uniforms again. I couldn't help but roll my eyes and groan. The guys got to wear normal khaki colored pants, and a light blue polo shirt.

I about threw a fit (again).

Why should they get out of having to wear that horrible plaid mess the sugar princess and I got stuffed into?

Life was _not _fair!

* * *

"Kookie," Why was it when _Scott_ said that name I got a cold chill? "Come in here a moment would you?" 'Here' was the Professor's office.

Why do they put it in form of a question? It's not like Jeopardy where I actually had a choice in the matter. It's more like that annoying millionaire show where the 'final answer is' whatever the 'superiors' want.

"Coming."

I had been meandering around looking for something to do (actually looking for my Stitch that just _suddenly_ walked away) when _Scott's_ head popped out and called me to them (like some sort of legion of vampires or something).

"Have a seat, Kerry."

At least the Professor knew better than to ask. I would have done what he said regardless. And I just dropped down into the first thing that I thought would hold my weight. So sit I did, and waited. Just staring at the man (well everything around him) behind the desk, as _Scott_ scampered off somewhere.

"How are you these days?"

I swear I would have raised my eyebrow if he hadn't done it first. He just gave me a look that was a cross between 'I-know-you-know-I-know-what-you're-thinking' and 'don't-look-at-me-like that.'

"Uh, except for banging myself up in landing, I guess I'm pretty okay."

"And how are getting along with the other new recruits?"

Suddenly I did _not_ like where this was going.

"Okay I guess." Leaving out that Chris and I constantly fight. I think he stole my Stitch doll, and we'd recently got into a banging-on-the-wall war (which was stopped by a _very_ angry Cajun and Mr. Logan). Daisy-Mae—I wasn't sure. She was irritating, backhanded with the things she said (and boy crazy, let's not forget that factor) and was eternally _happy_. Adrian…well….and Adam, hung out with most of the 'upper class' so I didn't talk to him too much.

"That is excellent news to hear."

Could I change my answer then?

"Scott said you wanted to see me, sir?" I turned to see an Adam enter the room, followed by a grumbling _Scott_.

Two of us _and_ the head honchos? What on EARTH was going on around here?

"We wanted to talk to you," no, really? "Storm is out on a mission at this moment, or she would be here as well."

One death glare from the Professor and Kerry was going to now stop making little remarks!

"As you both are aware, you are two out of five new recruits we have taken under our wing." Oh, ha ha, _Scott _just had to get a mention of wings in there didn't you? "Apart from learning to control and master your powers, we also teach teamwork. When we get a group of new students, they usually form a new team and all teams, naturally, need leaders."

Okay, I _really _didn't like where this was going. If this led up to what I _thought _it would— I wanted to run (or fly, that still sounded _so_ weird to think I could say and _do_ that) away from this room _now_.

"And after considering the traits we normally look for in team captains, which are determination, a willingness to learn," that disqualified me right there, "someone who will take charge," strike two, "and isn't afraid of doing what no one else is willing to, or is afraid to do." Strike three! It was outta the park and gone!

"And you came up with us?" Adam asked, he sounded kind of happy about it.

"All of the higher ranking students," those who wore spandex most of the time "elected and voted on who they thought would be the best ones to fill the role."

Okay, then why were two of us here? For moral support? To help spread the word? As a witness when Adam got around to saying he was in charge? What, I was missing it here!

"There is always a need for a second-in-command. Just in case something should happen to the leader," Professor answered, and stared at me. I didn't like getting stared at by him (or anyone for that fact!). "Of course this will mean you will have more advanced and thorough training in this new field you will be taking on."

_No_. Nonononono. Kerry didn't want any more training! Kerry was _sick_ of getting up at six in the morning, being forced to lift heavy objects while the Cookie Caper watched and nagged me, and then go to the roof where I had constantly be instructed on the proper way to take flight and how to land (which usually ended up with me rolling around on the grass and hurting myself). _Now _they wanted me to add being an authority type person to a bunch of unruly brats (I loved my peers—some) and work _harder_ for it? _No_! I was about to start school! I couldn't deal with this stress!

I needed chocolate!

"This is _so_ wicked. So we'd be under whom?" Adam sure seemed hyped up about all of this.

_Scott_ spoke up, "Considering everything, and that I already work with Kerry, I would be teaching her."

Oh, _man_! I needed like two, three, EIGHT tons of chocolate and I needed them _now._

"Naturally you may eitehr accept or decline the offer," like anyone was going to deny this man anything, "but we sincerely hope you two will be up for the task."

"I am _so_ for it! This is so _awesome_. When do we start?" What happy bug bit him?

"Kookie?"

Resorting to friendly tactics was _not_ going to work!

"I don't think I would be right for the job," I admitted. My reply sounded _so_ textbook.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't even _like _half the people I'd be ruling over." This got all three of them to stop and look at me. Two with glasses, and one with that blasted eyebrow raised (was it tattooed on him like that or something?).

"You wouldn't be 'ruling' over anyone. You would be in charge, but not _ruling._" So the difference between ruling and being in charge would be—what? I didn't get to collect taxes from them?

_Scott_ again, "You don't have to like the people work with, Kerry." Oh, resorting back to my real first name.

"_But_ if I had to lead them, then that would mean I'd have to try to keep them alive, right?" Just to make sure they'd follow me here. No response I guess was as good as I was going to get. "So why would I try to keep some people alive I don't even like?"

"Who don't you like?" Was Adam's question.

_Scott_ did something freaky; he crossed his arms and smirked. That wasn't the response I was going for. The Professor even just smiled at me and nodded, then looked at the smirking _Scott_ who looked at him and then nodded.

Ut-oh.

* * *

"What are you doing?" I jerked up at the sudden questioned, hit my head on the table, and back down to the floor went Kookie. Rubbing my aching skull, I crawled out from underneath the dining room table, and looked at the person.

He was looking back at me with a completely clueless expression on his face.

"Someone stole Stitch," I informed, and clambered to my feet. It was the night before school started and I tried to go to bed but I was too used to holding my little friend to go to sleep.

"Oh-kay."

"And I am looking for him?" I knew it was late but come on! Why else would I be crawling around under a table at night?

"Just so happens that this," _Stitch_! He pulled out Stitch behind his back! I nearly ripped my beloved toy when I grabbed him from his arms and squeezed the fuzzy alien plush against my chest. "Was stuffed in my pillow case."

I gave him my best 'yeah right glare'.

"It's the truth! What would I want with that thing?" A smile, a very cute smile, "After all I gave him to you."

Yeah, yeah, I know, and when D-M noticed Stitch was once again full of fluff and not wearing it on the outside, she played twenty questions trying to get me to buckle and tell her where I got the new one from.

I hadn't said a thing.

"Well, we've got school in the morning. Night." And with that, he left me cuddling my toy. I thought I smelt something on Stitch, something besides what my room smelt like (plywood and smelly glue) and it smelled good.

_Ah_! I was turning into a girl-girl! Or even worse a Daisy Mae!

* * *

This should qualify as cruel, unusual, and illegal treatment of any breathing, thinking, and feeling being alive (except maybe for Barney and Chris). First class of the morning, wasn't only _English_ with a teacher who had a name I couldn't pronounce _but_ I also had it with the perky princess of the East coast and _Kenney._

That's right, _Kenney _in all his preppy, swelled ego glory.

"Well, well, _well_, look at what I got here." A bad haircut and a lack of tact when it came to pick up lines? "If it isn't my little Miss No-Name."

And wouldn't you know, he sat down _right_ behind me, to the left was the smiling, make-upped, and hair curled D-M. She was talking up a storm with this other girl who didn't even reply but had a look of fear on her face.

I could sympathize.

"Okay class, settle!" Oh yeah, that's going to work. Haha! But amazingly enough everyone shut up in under two seconds. This was a world class phenomenon, a bunch of older teenagers listening to a soft-spoken teacher. "I'm sure you all are as excited about this year as I am!"

Sounds like a welcome-to-the-rest-of-your-life speech and I honestly tried to pay attention, but it didn't work. Another reason I shouldn't be put in charge (or co-in charge) of anything with a will to live. Mostly because I would NOT pay attention to it long enough to help it (number one reason my sister was put in charge of animals at our house, not me).

"And let's start this year with a good old fashion getting-to-know-you game!"

Not again! I hadn't had to get to know so many people since I was in the fourth grade! But at least I wouldn't be _tied_ to these people!

"Let's all stand up, state your name, what you would like to be called, and something about yourself. I'll go first!" Oooh my goodness, was she for real? She seemed like an extension of the ever cheerful Daisy-Mae. They were _multiplying!_ "My full name is Barbara Blackburn! I would like if you called me 'Mrs. Blackburn' and I have two children!"

Save me.

"Guess I get to find out your name finally," Came a whisper from behind me.

Perfect. What a wonderful start to the school year.

* * *

As if having that annoying boy in my first hour class wasn't bad enough, we also had Physical Education together. He insisted walking with me. I tried to get away from him, but I forgot how pushy everyone was in tiny high school halls.

Thankfully the P.E. seemed like a normal class. Meaning we had to 'dress out' in shorts and a t-shirt, but no physical movements were necessary beyond that point. The coaches were too busy yacking with each other and the rest of us were either whiny of wimps (not me of course).

But this also meant that unless I wanted to hide out in the locker room all hour, there was absolutely _no_ way to avoid the bothersome 'K'yo' as he wanted to be called (which got him some shouts from English, apparently this was the 'hunk' of the school-ick ick ick).

* * *

"No talking. No throwing. No asking if you can leave, the answer will be 'no'. No drawing. No tampering with the heater. No writing, I give you the notes for the chapter at the beginning of class, only on tests do I want to see a pen or pencil moving. No sleeping. No note passing. No noise making. No late work. No eating. No drinking. No makeup work, which includes tests and reports. No distracting other students. No physical contact with another person in this room. No daydreaming. No tardiness, as soon as the bell rings the door is shut and locked and no students will be allowed in and they will be counted as absent and spend the hour in detention. No marking in the text books. No drawing on the desks. No…"

What military school did this guy get created in?

I thought _Scott_ was bad; at least he let you breathe!

This was Mr. Military Man. This guy was someone who I think would be molded into a small idol and placed on _Scott's_ fireplace to remember what a true _strict_ type leader was.

Compared to this guy the X-Men's rules seemed—_soft_.

"Here is what you may do. You may sit in your assigned seat quietly. You may raise your hand to ask a question. You may bring your book to class, have it opened to the right page, and be waiting for my lecture. You are able to turn all assignments in on time, and properly formatted as I will instruct you to do at the time in which the assignments are handed out. You are allowed to keep focused on me, and nothing else, even if the building were to fall down around my ankles you do _not_ focus on that you focus on _me_. You are able to speak only when, and if, I speak to you. Are there any questions?"

I think I heard someone blink it was _so_ quiet. _This_ was the class all four of the 'Xavier brats' were in. There were five seats to a row, and we were all filed into one row. It was some girl in the first seat, D-M, then Chris, then Adrian, and then me in the corner of the room closest to the door.

I was tempted to make a run for it after the hard-nose man was done with his little lecture of 'what not to do' and 'what _really_ not to do'. In fact, the next thing I knew, he was passing out the first notes of the first chapter. Said he didn't want to waste any time beating around the bush with games and such like the other teachers liked to do. He even gave us a _list_ of the 'no' and 'do' of his class, which I might say he shortened in his previous speech.

Welcome to Western Civilization with Mr. Poovey.

Such an evil man with such a whacky last name, go figure.

* * *

Next up, (fourth hour) was Physical Science with Mrs. Fletcher.

Apparently a 'bird' course, considering the teacher didn't talk for the first twenty minutes of class (at least to us, she was on her cell phone with someone named 'snooky'). So needless to say we didn't get much accomplished except the passing out of text books and roll call, after that she was on the phone again and said to read her hand out. I loved these types of teachers! They didn't want to really teach and the students, in turn, weren't really sure they wanted to learn what was not being taught! Yeah! I had nothing to do in at least _one_ class (okay, two counting P.E.).

* * *

Lunch was a literal field day. People were everywhere, absorbing up the chairs faster than we could find places to sit. D-M apparently made friends when she'd come her in the spring; Chris (the dark and brooding) was with the rest of the people who looked as though they'd kill you if you smiled at them. That left me and Adrian, him being shy and me being _very_ quiet in class, sat by ourselves. Apparently Sacked-Lunches Summers also cursed the Canadian with the brown paper bag.

"It's better than starving I guess," was his comment as he began to pull out a sandwich. He made a face, and got up to get milk or something.

Health nut.

Better than starving, but barely!

Bobby-_jerk_ seemed to be making friends with great ease, he was standing at the lunch line and making people get back in order if they tried to skip and joked around with them (at least that's why I think they were laughing for). Wasn't he Mister Popular.

"Hey, there."

Oh, no.

Not again. There was a limit of how much of one idiot I could take at a time and this guy filled it in the first two seconds of my meeting him.

"You don't mind if me and my buddies join you, do you?"

Yes.

And then he sat down in _Adrian's_ seat.

"My guys will be coming over in a second." And then he began to _stare_ at me. I seriously disliked being _stared _at. It was so unnerving; I always wanted to make sure my nose didn't creep up my forehead or something.

"Someone was sitting there."

"Yeah, who?"

"Me."

Saint Adrian! Thou hast returned to me! (Dr. Hank and his quotes were messing with my mind.)

Kenney looked up at the tall guy (I'm 5'6.5, Adrian was about six foot) and though I didn't see the facial expression, Adrian looked blankly at the boy in front of him.

"Sorry, Adrian," Kenney said, got up, and moved to the _other_ side of me.

Why couldn't he just go away?

Wait—Adrian? What's an Adrian doing being known by—by a _thing_ like Kenney?

"So, dude, didja hear that the coach wants us to be at practice around three thirty instead of four?"

Adrian? Coach? Kenney and Adrian were on friendly terms?

I had the distinct impression I was missing something here.

* * *

I couldn't help but laugh at him.

Long and hard.

Chris' face was priceless as he came into class grumbling and cursing under his breath.

"_Shut-_up."

"Ha-ha," I said in a teasing tone. He glared harder.

Adrian couldn't help but shake his head with a smile on his face either. It was _so _funny that Mr. Macho was shoved into the girly-girl class to learn to bake and sew.

Ten minutes into class and this little assignment was handed out. It was a survey of our housekeeping skills. Things like "rate yourself 1-10 (ten being the highest) about how well you cook, sew, etc." And then she (Miss Reese) gave her speech about the plans for the year and how we were going to be broken off into teams of four and things like that.

"So I'd like to start the year accordingly, and tell you which groups you will be in. First off…" And this was when Kerry blocked out the teacher and drifted away on cloud 8.999, which meant I hadn't a clue what was going on until I heard my name.

My mind flew (ha-ha) back to a few days ago when I was "in debate" with Professor and _Scott_ (more like me whining and them listening). They wanted me to be the stinkin' _co-leader_ of the team of new recruits, as Adam was to be leader. I got to boss people around, and that would be great, but I have to put _up_ with those people as well—not so great. Adrian was nice, Adam was okay, too (not to mention, he now 'out ranked' me), Daisy-Mae-I was going to skip Daisy-Mae, and then there's _Chris_-who could fry the feathers right off my wings. No matter how much I complained, they said a trial run was in order…_OW_!

Elbow to the side equaled pain!

"_Ow_! What?"

Adrian looked sheepishly around at my little outburst, "She's called your name three times."

"Oh, here!"

"There you are! I thought for a second I had a no show! Kerry, you're with table four."

I _was_ at table 4, so much the better. At least I didn't have to move. Adrian wasn't paired up with me, so he got booted to table seven. And as luck had it...

"Guess we're together-Koo-_keey,_" Chris smirked as he sat down beside me. "'Ha-ha.'"

"Oh, great. Now I won't have to ask for anything for Christmas." I then promptly rolled my eyes.

* * *

"Hello class!" Oh, boy. "Welcome to Business Math. I'll be your instructor Mr. Robert Drake. To you, sadly, you must address me as task _master_."

Some people laughed at his little comment. They _actually_ laughed.

"This is going to be a trip," Adrian whispered over his shoulder.

"Unfortunately, the school board wants everyone in class to call me Mr. Drake, so that's what I'll be known as during school hours. And instead of drilling you with a long list or rules and stuff like that, I'm just going to say the basics are required. Book, pencil, paper, brain," more giggles. "and of course all homework turned in on time."

"Why him?" I muttered out loud.

"Would you rather have a class under Hank?" Adrian asked.

Good point. I'd fail that class for sure.

"Now, the very 'fun' job of getting you into assigned seating." a round of groans and 'oh mans' "Come on guys, you're hurting the new teacher's feelings."

"We wouldn't want to do that," some brunette purred (_literally_!) behind me. Yeah, he might be eye candy to those that did not know him.

"I'm not cruel and unusual; most people math fills that slot rather well, so I'm not going to make you sit in alphabetical order. In fact I've already got this arranged. Look under your seats and pull out the text books. Open them up, and if it isn't your name, move around until you've found you're name. No switching because I, being an all knowing teacher, will know if you've swapped."

Mine said 'Gladi, Tucker' so I had to get up and hunt down my name. And when I found it, I death glared 'Mr. Drake' who only lifted his eyebrows like he was innocent or something. I sat down very hard in my assigned seat (hurting myself more than making a point) and continued to glare at me 'teacher'.

"Now, since everyone found where they sit, it's time for the normal fifth grade level time of stating names and something about yourself. And since in the teacher's conference I was commanded by the school god known as the Principal to go first," he paused, "I will. My name, as I've said, is Robert Drake, and I've only just started to teach," yeah, like, hmm, _today_. "And when I was younger, I was notorious for stealing Twinkies from my best friend, Hank."

_And me_! You stole my Twinkie as well let us not forget! And because you stole my food, I ended up _grounded_!

"Now, it's time for you. Let's start with the first person on the middle row."

And that was me. This evil creature put me in the front of the class, directly in front of the blackboard. He wasn't human; he was some sort of _thing_ Dr. Hank created in his lab.

"Please stand up and tell us your name and something about yourself."

As if he didn't know.

"My name is Kerry. My last name looks like it should be pronounced demon, but it's actually pronounced dee-moon." and I really wanted my 'special something about myself' to get him in trouble. Something like, 'and I've been living with Mr. Drake for the past five months.' But I doubt that would do anything but get me grounded. So instead, "And I've recently gotten the nick-name, Kookie, with a 'K'."

With that, the agitated Kookie sat down, and I saw Adrian smiling and shaking his head, and Mister Bobby "the Perv" Drake smirked.

"So you wouldn't mind anyone in here calling you by that nick-name?"

"It's better than what I've heard other people called."

And that time _I_ got the class laughing.

* * *

The last hour, thankfully, was nothing more than a study hour. We were allowed to go to any teacher's room as long as we had a note from them that it was okay. But I was more than happy to just plop down my Kookie-self into the nearest chair and try to fall asleep for the last hour of school.

And this was only the beginning.

Not only for the school year, but for learning for today. When I got home I had flight lessons with Mr. Warren, then had Leadership 101 with Farmer Summers (the guy got up with the sun, and even before then, and then got _me_ up), and _then_ I had to go into the Danger Room. Of course they had yet to convince me to get into the spandex bathing suit thingie they called a uniform.

Ah, when'd my life get so complicated?

Heck, when'd I start living on a schedule?

When'd I start _having_ a life?


	27. Saturday

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 027**_

* * *

"Now, let's say yere faced with a guy packin' a gun," Mr. Logan said to a bunch of half-dead kids at _four_ in the _morning _on a _Saturday_. "What do you do?"

No one responded. At this moment if a guy with the gun popped out of the ceiling I didn't think any of us would care. I think all of us together got maybe a total of three hours of sleep, _tops_. Darn Adrian and his stupid video games!

Even the perky princess (Daisy, the one who makes Coke nervous) was glaring at the short, yet _very_ strong little man.

"No answers? Okay, then, I'll pick ya out." He did a scary grin thing, and looked over at me; at least I think he did, hard to tell with closed eyelids. "Kookie, you're a leader of this pep squad, what do you do?"

I sighed, opened my eyes, and lifted my head off the body it was leaned on, "I have no idea."

He tilted to his head to the side for a second as if thinking it over and then kept talking, "What would your first reaction be?"

Wet my pants? "Try to blend in with my surroundings?" Yes, this was the result of many (six) 'Leadership 101' courses with Mr. Sadistic Summers. He had me _hide _in the woods one night, and said that if he could find me in less than ten minutes I'd have to start all over again. I stayed out there for five hours straight. Only reason he let me go in was because it was close to midnight and the next day I had school.

"Not bad, but if that weren't an option? What would you try to do?"

"Get the gun from him?"

"How?"

"Ask him politely?" Oh, that would work D-M. But it wasn't any better than my replies. I'd never had a real boom-boom gun pointed at me. Water guns? Yes. Bullet guns? Not so much.

He gave her a look, like a predator-being-teased-by-its-prey type look. This was NOT the guy you needed to be mouthy to apparently.

"Kerry," I'm here, doesn't mean I have to make sense. "What is your choice as co-leader?"

"Ask the advice of the leader, and if he wasn't around- I'd run." I smiled innocently at him, and withheld 'and let someone else on the team deal with the guy.'

"Why run?" What was this? A surviving death course or something? _Hello_! The imaginary guy had a _gun_ why wouldn't you run? That would be my reaction, besides throwing someone in between me and the loon with a gun. "Well?"

"Because I don't have any way to take the gun," And that was the truth. At this he gave that creepy grin thing again, and nodded his head. Why wasn't he drilling Adam? _He_ was the leader guy of us!

Supposedly…

"That's what I'm here to teach ya to do; now what if it's a mutant? There ain't no way to disarm a mutant of his powers."

Kick high if male, pull hair if female.

"Run _and_ scream?"

"Ha!" Chris piped up, he sure was lively for this time of day. Stinkin' night owl. "All you'd have to do, _Koo-key_, is sit on him and let your big butt squash him!"

I glared at him, and lucky for him the nearest thing to me I could throw was Adrian and I wasn't that strong yet, so I continued to glare.

Mr. Logan decided to ignore the last comment and went on with his questions. "What if it was me comin' after ya?"

This took a second then I answered, "Pray."

* * *

Four o'clock sessions with Mr. Logan for self defense in martial arts and all that other bruise-the-bad-guy stuff, and then the others get to eat. Me? _Scott_ liked to start the classes bright and early. Like _right_ after Mr. Logan's. So there I was starving, sleep deprived, and all around not your average morning person.

Oh some co-leader I was going to be. I'd probably end up letting the bad guys have what they wanted if they let me have a bed to sleep in.

And cookies. Couldn't forget the cookies.

Grumpy and upset in the middle of the Danger Room on a cold metallic stool wearing my skin tight jeans and one of the skimpy t-shirts (I needed to do laundry) I waited. Apparently today was question and answer day at Xavier's mansion because all he (_Scott_) did was to ask a bunch of questions about scenarios (mostly which he brought to life using the Danger Room).

"Now let's try another scenario." And then I was on the beach of an island lined with nice trees, and it even simulated a breeze. This place was so weird, who needed to pay for a vacation when you could just make up whatever one you wanted? "This was a living island, and the plants are what hold you captive. What do you do, or how do you get the others to work together to escape?"

"Get a big weed whacker."

There was silence for a split second, and then "No weed whacker, just you and your team's powers. You need to strategize a plan to free yourself without hurting anyone else."

I sighed, and my stomach rumbled its complaint. "I would become a vegetarian and _eat_ my way to freedom."

"Deadly plants." Well, why the heck didn't he say that from the get go? Not like it would have helped me any, but I wouldn't have been so quick to shoot off my mouth with that last comment. When I got sleepy one of two things happened, I either become extremely stupid or my mouth forms and spits out words without consulting my brain.

"How did we get _on_ this island? And what _are_ 'my teams' powers anyway?"

"Now you're starting to think as a leader." Correction _co_-leader! _Adam_ was leader thankyouverymuch.

This was turning out to be a fun day.

* * *

After getting the third degree about what to do if a living island suddenly attacked us, I was given the homework of reading all the information about my team. Why? Because it would help when I had to strategize future missions.

So fun! And I finally got to eat! Not much because the boys attacked the 'fridge and pantry. But back up to my room I went with four separate files each about an inch thick, and it was only ten in the morning. I was up since _three thirty_.

Bed was a callin'!

But before I could get in there, someone called me away.

"Hey, Kookie, up on the roof in ten." And Mr. Warren walked to the end of the hall, opened the study's window, and out he flew.

You had _got_ to be kidding me. I just spent hours with the two bossiest people to be stuck with in the morning, and now I was supposed to fly around and pick up weights and stuff? Why _me_? In fact I brought my complaining to him, and he showed me mercy (I think Mr. Warren actually had a date).

"If you can pick up both weights in under five attempts, you're free to go." And that was the deal. It was sort of like the one with _Scott_ but less hiding in prickly bushes and me scurrying up trees. So I tried, and on the fourth time I actually was able to do the stupid dive and pick up both weights, but I couldn't pull up in time. When I started to walk back to the mansion intent on going to bed, Mr. Warren called me back, and said that I didn't fulfill the part of the bargain yet.

"You never said I had to land right," I pointed out, he, in turn, rolled his eyes and shooed me away.

* * *

I was running around the mansion for most of the day after that, and I was _so_ tired. But they didn't let me stop, oh no. 'A leader is always ready to take lead and take action' yeah well, this co-leader was ready to take action to get her hind end _in_ a bed in under five minutes- but, of course, I couldn't.

Saturday's were the busy busy days apparently, because after all the lessons, I had to go to Dr. Hank for yet another check up.

"Long time no see my sweetly named patient!" How could a man who got two hours a sleep a month always be so personable? Must be part of his mutant ability. Blue fur and a cheerful attitude…and smart, _real_ smart.

"Hey, Dr. Hank," I muttered climbing on the bed. A nice bed, a bed that wasn't very soft, but it was still somewhere to lie down on.

"Do not fear my feather friend, for the procedures which must proceed shall be done with before you can say 'cookie', Kookie." Ah! My head, he spoke in his little rhymes and weird words again! Argh! That was cruel and unusual punishment for a girl with low resistance to big words and understanding them.

I kept forgetting to bring a dictionary down there when I came to talk to him.

"And now, m'dear," then he pulled out this long torture stick otherwise known as the _needle_. "Time to take some blood."

I felt faint.

* * *

"Hey, Kookie," was what woke me up from where I had fallen asleep on my nice lovely, wonderful bed with Daisy-Mae's folder on my face. I woke up with a huge picture of her staring back at me, needless to say I _'eeped'_ and sat up quickly. Looking over at the invader of Kookie Land, I yawned, and dropped back down with D-M's folder now in my lap.

"What are you up to?" He asked, picking up one of the folders, I squinted at him.

"Mr. Summers wants me to read all this junk about the team."

"Uh-huh, anything interesting?" I guess I wasn't getting rid of him anytime soon, might as well entertain him.

"Yeah right. So interesting I feel asleep reading it." I said picking up D-M's folder again and flipping through her medical history and such. These things were _very_ thorough. Even who was and wasn't-uh, _experienced _in the bedroom.

Like I even _cared_?

"Anyway, Jean made me come and get you, something about some cooking or stuff." He shrugged, and gave me _that_ smile again. "Didn't really pay attention."

I waved him away, and curled up on my bed with Chris' folder next to me. I picked it up and opened up his medical history. Had his appendix removed, yaddayadda, oh he had an ingrown toenail (I told you these things were thorough), and what's this? At fifteen he was found to have…

"Oh, crap."


	28. I'm COleader!

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 028**_

* * *

I don't think anyone would have notice my sudden skittishness with Chris if I hadn't nearly jumped off the stairs when he walked behind me. I tripped and about took D-M down for the ride of twenty or so steps. When asked what was wrong, all I could do was laugh nervously and say he scared me. For that I was looked at weirdly and only Professor looked at me and clearly called me a 'liar'.

I didn't care.

That boy wasn't going to touch me, not that he ever did, but I distanced us now even more. It had been almost a week, and in Home Ec. we were told we would be cooking the following week and to get a list of recipes we wanted together. My group (two other guys plus Chris) flipped through the cookbooks, and then he got a paper cut. I was two inches from falling out of my desk.

He scared me.

I was scared of what he _was_, and I knew that it would make him feel horrible to know about my sudden lack of friendliness (if there ever was any) to him. No one had noticed anything more, I don't think, if it wasn't for our first Danger Room session after almost two weeks of leadership training with _Scott_ and his odd methods of teaching me.

Being stubborn I still refused to wear the spandex thing that showed more than it covered, and was in the room wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt (borrowed, naturally, all my new ones were skin tight and I couldn't breathe in them!).

"Okay, simulation one, the plasma cannons. Adam you're in charge." And that was all you heard from the 'god voice' of the Professor from the Control room and then it was quiet. The stupid guns from before popped back out of their hiding spots and of course, started to shoot at us.

Talk about déjà vu, I was ready to throw D-M at the cannons, but remembered I hadn't gone black and therefore, no super strength, which was needed when picking up anyone. I took the 'sky'.

"Stupid thing!" Chris' shouted, as I looked on from my safety spot in the air. Adrian was attacking the cannons with his metallic arms; his ability was that he could turn his limbs into metal blades and other such things. My eyes nearly bugged out when Adrian accidentally cut Chris on his forearm.

"Kerry!" Adam screamed through the fog of fear that now clouded my mind.

"Huh?" The little badge thingie that I think they called a communicator blinked when he spoke up again. He wanted me to get Chris and bring him to the south side of the room, currently the boy was in the north.

Bleeding very slightly, but bleeding none the less.

I could see why they wanted him moved, Adrian (who came from Canada complete with the codename of _Flex_) had gone to the far side, and Chris had several cannons on him. I knew it hurt to be hit by those stupid things, and without anyone to throw in the path, he'd get it full blast.

But he was bleeding!

"KERRY!" I flapped my wings but I couldn't move forward.

He screamed, so loud.

The cannons had fired.

And all I did was watch him.

* * *

Did I get chewed out? Oh yeah. _Big_ time, several times by different people and then sometimes by the same person twice. They were _highly_ mad at me because I didn't rescue Chris in time to prevent him from being injured, even though he wasn't _seriously_ hurt mind you.

"Why didn't you follow orders?" Was a popular start to a lecture, or even better, "You are supposed to _help_ your teammates!"

They could try to lay on the guilt all they wanted; it still wouldn't have changed my attitude about the whole thing. He was _bleeding_, and I liked being me. That was, I liked being alive. I hid when things get too hard to watch or understand; they don't know I saw with my dad, what kind of things happened that night he died. They don't know how preciously I hold my _own_ life, since I'd seen others snuffed out quicker than one of Mr. Logan's cigars.

"Kerry, in my office. _Now_," Professor ordered and like a little whipped puppy, with everyone watching me, I walked in behind his floating chair and shut the door. "Sit down, Kerry."

And I did, I was already pretty beaten up mentally by the words everyone kept throwing my way. I could see it the way they saw it, that I purposely let a member of my group get hurt when I could have—_should have_ prevented it, but they didn't know my point of view.

"Why didn't you do as you were told by your group leader?" Professor, I learned, was never one for chit-chat.

I made a face, and didn't look at him, just turned away from his eyes and shrugged. _That_ was a great answer, sheesh, never lie or avoid talking to a telepath, it's kind of pointless.

"I know you are scared of the things that have happened to you in the recent months, and we are trying to help you cope, but you must be willing to work with us as well." I rolled my eyes, yeah, I see you were trying _real_ hard to help me cope, by driving me insane with work and responsibilities, oh sure I felt _so_ in touch with the rest of the people.

"You know of Chris' past condition, do you not?"

My eyes bugged out, "How did you-?"

Dumb question. _Extremely_ dumb question there Kookie, he was a telepath you moron, put the two together. Dummy!

"Your thoughts did give your knowledge away, but Cyclops warned me beforehand that you were getting files on your team, all the information we had them." His fingers did the funny steeple thing, as his eyebrows tried to become one in the middle of his forehead. "They were meant to inform you, not to scare you, child."

"I know." But it did. And I couldn't help it. And how come they only remembered that I was a child when I got freaked out? All the other times I was a 'young adult', whatever the heck that was supposed to mean.

"I will be here when you are ready to talk about it," Professor's voice had a soft, almost fatherly tone, which instead of comforting me, made me flinch. I didn't do father tones too well, not since Dad. Not since the night he died.

He hadn't acted much like a father that night.

* * *

That day I got out of Professor's office around an hour later, it was around seven and I missed dinner which I guessed in the long run wasn't such a bad thing. A co-leader letting her teammate fry didn't sit well with these people apparently and I didn't feel like having nasty looks or head shakings directed to me. It got old. I avoided the entire household the best I could for a week or so, ducking into the kitchen for a bite here and there.

I felt bad enough already so instead of facing anyone I kind of scampered (ran) up the stairs to the men's wing floor, and beelined for my room. Such was my practice for the week (unless school and training made me do otherwise, I skipped out of all the leadership classes though). Of course I wouldn't be as lucky as to have to be left alone to sulk.

"Hey, Kookie."

I sighed, "Hello, Mr. Summers." I didn't want to get chewed out anymore, but I figured he came to unlock my door, and I just showed up as he was leaving. And I was right, he brushed right past me, and I just shook my head.

Some great X-Man I was going to be. I collapsed onto my bed, and buried my head into my pillow. I was half asleep when I heard my door open again. Unless this place was also _haunted_ (which I wouldn't doubt for a second) that meant someone came in.

"I brought you the food you seem to love so much."

Cookies? I sat up in my bed, and no, it wasn't cookie's but what was left of that night's dinner in Mr. Something-Funny-Is-Taking-Place-Here-Summers' hands. I looked at him, and looked at the food, and then back up to him.

What was up?

He put it down on my nightstand, and then grabbed my computer chair, brought it over to where I was and straddled it. This was unexpected, but as I stared at him with my expression clearly screaming 'what the _heck_ is wrong with you?' he told me to eat, and I, not knowing what else to do, did.

I didn't talk, and _Scott_ seemed to find looking around my room rather interesting entertainment. I was getting on edge and ready to flee, but then, of course, he decided to talk.

"It's hard." Was all he said. Don't ask me what he _meant_ but that's what he said. "Sometimes."

Oh that made it clear. Yup, understood it completely now, thank you for making it so easy to understand-shessh.

"Aw, right," I answered stuffing my face with more food. _Scott_ gave me a lopsided smile.

"Being a leader is hard," _Co_-leader! Why is everyone forgetting this? "I was a bit older than you when I was first put in charge of the original five. It was tough being the responsible one, but after a while, the others learned to treat me like just another guy—who could boss them around."

That clearly said : _'The power! The power!'_ followed by evil laughter.

"I messed up majorly," I lost interest in the food, remembering how Chris looked so bad in the med. lab, and whenever he was walking around the halls he'd glare at me and say 'thanks again'. "Maybe I shouldn't _be _in a leadership role."

"Those that think shouldn't be in charge are often the best to _be_ in charge. They work harder to feel like they should be in the position, unlike someone who thinks they should be in charge and take the little things for granted."

Thank you for your input oh fountain of knowledge, I would be sure to log that away. I know he was trying for the reaching out stuff, but it was hard to reach back after getting your hand slapped after one mess up. Perhaps I was taking it a little too hard, but I _know_ how much those dumb lasers _hurt_, they half bake you.

"Are you talking about personal experience or just in general?"

"General and personal," _Scott_ seemed to study me for a moment, and then if I had still been eating, I would have _choked _with what he said next. Don't get all weird and think he confessed undying love or anything, no way! This was far more jaw dropping. "You don't like me very much, do you Kerry?" Tell me HOW exactly did one answer that without sticking one's foot in their mouth? It wasn't like I could tell the truth, because he would do something mean like making me lift about 200 pounds (which I could _not_ do) next morning during our muscle-building time. And if I lied, he'd know it. Don't ask me how, but he'd know it. Probably the fact he had a telepath for a wife was a strong reason.

"Uh, well, it's-uh, just that, there's uh," Oh this would be something I would say in hopes of _not_ sticking my foot into my big fat mouth. I felt my cheeks go bright red, just like Adrian when I walked out of the shower, with barely a towel on, and he was going-well, _about_ to go to the bathroom. _That_ was embarrassing! It wasn't like I knew he was going to be up at three in the morning!

_Scott_ held up a hand, "It's okay, you wouldn't be the first, and no doubt won't be the last. Maybe Warren should be the one talking to you about this."

"Why him? Haven't I put him through enough? Or did he do something wrong and I'm his punishment?" Well, it's the truth; he had to put up with most of my whining and complaining since I came here because I had to learn to fly under him and such, figuratively not literally, but duh right? I thought so. Sheesh, I was rambling!

He laughed, not long and not loud, but the Mr. Straight-faced-Summers actually laughed. That was kind of relieving, and unnerving at the same time, "At least you're becoming more comfortable with us."

Not like I had much of a choice, now did I? Couldn't call mom to come pick me up from the slumber party gone bad or anything like. She'd sooner put a gun to my head than open her arms to hug me.

"It's hard, sometimes. And being a leader makes it harder." _Co_-aw heck, forget it. "But you have to put the team first in some occasions, like this one. What do you think would be better for the team, and for Chris?"

I mulled over it, and like I'd proven before, thinking and I didn't t mix. Another fine reason why I should _not _have been a leader. "I think it's really no one's business but Chris'."

He nodded halfly, "Maybe, but what if the others find out and act like you did? Wouldn't it be better to prevent that kind of catastrophe before it has a chance to arise?"

"What would _you_ do?" _Scott_ then got up to go, but before he did he added some oh so wise words to close the conversation.

"I'm not in charge of them. You have to decide what is best for the team and for Chris."

There goes my popular vote. But another thought struck me.

_Why doesn't Adam do this hard stuff!?_

Sheesh. If I didn't know any better I'd think the Adam-leader thing was a hoax, but they wouldn't do that.

I hoped.

Maybe I should asked.

But then again, I might get an answer I didn't want to hear.

Hello, dead end street!

* * *

"Miss D'mon, I don't allow daydreaming in my class!"

That'll snap you out of it in about two seconds; Mr. Poovey's face was blood red with irritation. What else could I do? I laughed nervously and turned a lovely shade of red myself. No one turned around to look at me, for that I was thankful. This guy even kept Chris in line.

Didn't mean I wouldn't hear about it after class. Before running off to Physical Science, I pulled my buddy aside, away from any eyes, ears, or eyebrow raising, smirking Daisy-Maes.

"You look happy."

Thanks for noticing. "You have no idea," I grumbled, "I have something to ask you."

"What's up, Kookie?" that must have been the question of the day, of course, again _I _could understand why it would be, and you would have been a complete idiot _not_ to know. I was caught daydreaming in almost all my classes, and even had something thrown at me earlier to wake me up, of course that was compliments of _Kenney_. Lovely boy that he was-_right_.

"It's about the-uh, session two weeks ago." They even recorded the sessions! So they had _proof _ I heard and did not respond to the command. They had that to hang over my head for as long as I was there. Wasn't that a joy to know? "What do you think I should do about it?"

"About what?" He asked, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and tipped his head to the side.

"Ya know, _it_."

"No, I don't." Okay, I know he had a brain, but he still didn't understand the _guess_-what-I'm-talking-about way of conversation!

"Oh forget it! It's not your problem, it's Adam's. I shouldn't have even dragged you into this!" I was flustered, sighed, and left to make it to science before the bell. Not that if I showed up late that woman would even notice, she didn't teach, only talked on the phone and made us do definitions to have _something_ to grade. Of course she didn't even _check_ the definitions, just put a 100 on top if you turned them in.

I was stopped, not by telekinesis (I hadn't made Mrs. Jean that mad yet) but by a hand on my elbow.

"Whatever it is, if it's about the-uh group then _no_body can tell you what to do. Only you can."

Another dead end!

* * *

My head was _still_ throbbing two days later, I had to resolve this or I'd get addicted to aspirin, which I kept popping every four to six hours as directed. I should have swallowed the whole flammin' bottle but Dr. Hank took it away and said that I had my limit…ten times over.

I reached a decision, but I had to get it okayed by Adam and Chris before I acted. I _really_ didn't like being in charge, if it meant I was going to have a boot stuck in my rear by my teammates then I'd rather be a spectator (because it's hard to sit with boots stuck in an uncomfortable place).

"Why me?"

"Why not?" Oh, _great_, just the person I _didn't_ want to see. I looked up, and yup, sure enough, it was Bobby-Pervert coming out of—Chris' room? "What you doing, Kookie? Hunting down the chocolate like a typical upset female?"

"Bite me."

"I only like to eat cookies with milk, sorry, Kookie."

Weirdo. Like I was disappointed. Honestly.

* * *

Talking. Number two thing that got Kookie into trouble. The first was thinking, but that got _everyone_ into trouble at some point in time in their life, even more so if you lived with a bunch of telepaths. I didn't have the best way of getting my ideas across to people, in fact, I stunk at it. Darcy (my sister) told me this constantly when I tried to defend myself. What could I say? I just was not a fighting type person. I'd pitch my fits, but they were mostly laughed at (and got me nicknames apparently).

Instead of knocking, I banged my head against the door. No reply. Well, couldn't say I didn't try!

"He's in the Med. Lab."

Crap. Adrian, you're timing was horrible.

"Thanks, Adrian." I teased. Apparently Adrian was something of a jock. He played on the football team, and _that _was how he and K'yo knew each other. Wasn't that odd? Mr. Pacifist a big bad football player!

I made my way down to Dr. Hank's lab (aka drug central) and walked in without thinking about that, hmm, maybe there was something going on that I did _not_ want to see.

Thankfully there wasn't anything like that going on (had you worried didn't I?).

"Congratulations, Mr. Bradley, you are still 100 percent clean," Dr. Hank about dropped his medical charts when he turned around to see a certain black feathered mutant (me) in the doorway. He wasn't slow to react though, "Kerry! You're not supposed to be in here-!"

"It's okay, Dr. Hank, I know." I held up Chris' folder, "I read."

"Wonderful," Chris muttered, "Now you got blackmail."

"Can I talk to Chris, please, Dr. Hank?" He looked between us, stated that he needed a drink to wash down the Twinkies, and that he'd be gone for about ten minutes.

"Man," Chris wanted to curse, that much I could guess.

"Don't think I'm thrilled about _wanting_ to be alone in a room with _you_, buddy." No, this would typically _not_ have been the way to start a 'heart-to-heart' but me and Chris weren't friends and weren't typical therefore this _was_ the perfect way to start of a conversation of complication. "But we need to talk."

He _glared_ at me, and I had to hand it to him, it was his best yet. "Maybe I don't want to."

"Good, then don't. Let me talk and you just sit there and be all dark and angry. Works for me." Harder glare from him and I shrugged. "Anyway, I came to apologize for that episode in the Danger Room, and letting you, you know, become crispy and all. But I also think that you should tell everyone about your—unique problem."

"Like hell I will!" Chris seethed, "I am _not_ going to be waving around a flag telling everyone what I _used_ to have!"

"I thought you were going to be _quiet_?" Darker look, man, he must have been taking lessons to do that or something, he was getting good. "Good boy. Now, as I was saying, either you or I am going to tell the others about this."

"Why? What's the point? So they can freak out and act like you?"

Time to try to be like _Scott_ (that left _such_ a bad film in my mind). "No, so they _won't_ act like me when they find out, and they _will_ find out. Even if neither of us, say anything, they'll hear about it from somewhere. Wouldn't it be better coming from you, rather than from someone else?"

Chris didn't say anything, but his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the side of the medical bed. Whoa, guess I struck a nerve, as long as he took it out on the bed and not out on me. I sighed, and told him to tell me what his choice was before the end of the week (it was Wednesday). Leaving out, I bumped into _Scott_ and Miss Oreo (I was called Kookie, therefore, calling _her_ a food product no longer bothered me).

"Uh," Not a 'hi' or anything, but an 'uh' someone _shoot_ me before I become so dumb I couldn't remember how to breathe. _Argh_.

"Good job, kid," _Scott _complimented, and then walked away, toward the changing rooms.

"Yes, child, you did well handling the situation."

"Uh, thanks?"

"It appears we choose well."

Huh?

* * *

Chris gave me his choice later that night, had a few smart aleck comments to shoot at me, and I, being all co-leaderish, threatened to throw him out a window or put him in a blender at school. Just because I was 'co-leader' does _not_ mean I'm mature. Didn't mean I had to act like I was an adult, I mean, look at Bobby-Jerk, today in his class he had us break up into teams and become pretend banks fighting over one client. He thought it would be funny to put me and Adrian as the loser couple looking for a loan. Jerk.

Oh, and then he announced that we were going to have a test next week on Friday. What a meanie head he was sometimes!

Back to this, Adam got all the people (me, him, Chris, D-M, and Adrian) into the study at the end of the men's wing with little complication (how he did it with _little_ complication I didn't know, I would have had to tackle and hog tie them to get them to listen to me).

"This better be good, I'm expecting a call from Shane in about ten minutes." Shane? D-M had a guy? I thought she had a thing for Adam, and then Bobby-Jerk, couldn't this girl make up her mind who it was she's going to drool after?

"This is important, I think." That's convincing, oh great leader.

Chris glared at me, and sat down on the recliner while the rest of us skoowshed together on the couch. I looked back at him and balled my fists; Chris smirked and rolled his eyes.

"So, talk Chris. You're the reason we came here," Adrian prodded.

"No I'm not. I'm sittin' here about to talk to you because of _Koo_-key." He looked down, let out frustrated noise, and then looked up. "I guess there is one classic technique to do this. As retarded and dumb as it seems, much like the one who wanted me to do this." Kookie glare to Chris. "Hi, my name is Chris Bradley, and I am a mutant. I was diagnosed, and cured of, the disease known as the Legacy virus. How are you today?"

* * *

It was _Friday_! At last! Of course, that meant tomorrow was the hectic Saturday of Summers, as cruel and unusual as it was to get woken up at five on Monday thru Friday, the four o'clock Saturday wake-ups were much worse. Knowing this, I tried to get off to my room without getting caught by someone trying to teach me something. I was lazy, I liked to practice being lazy as often as I possibly could.

"Kookie!" Oh great, just when I thought I was going to be able to sneak off into my room for the rest of the day, I got caught by Miss Rogue. "Phone for ya, shugah."

Phone? That ringing thing I never used? "Okay, I'll-uh, get it in my room." If I could find it. I had to unplug it sometime ago because Chris kept calling my line in the middle of the night and then hanging up; I knew it was him because after I went next door and _took_ his phone, the calls stopped. Of course he said he didn't do it, _sheyeah_ right, I was _so_ sure he was framed.

"I got it!" I screamed, listened for the click from the kitchen phone, and did what everyone does, "Hello?"

"Is this Kerry?"

It took all my strength not to drop the phone, my knees buckled, and all words left my brain.

"Hello?" _That_ voice, it sounded so irritated. I swallowed my shock the best I could (which was better to swallow with a coke or something) and answered the question.

"Mama?"


	29. I am NOT upset!

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 029**_

* * *

"_Whoa_!" Okay, so trying to punch him straight out didn't work. So I tried the kick Mr. Logan showed us the day before, unfortunately he knew that move too. Dang! I guess it didn't matter at this moment. I continued to try anything to connect my limbs with his body. "I'm guessing something happened that made you mad."

Wonder where he got that conclusion? Perhaps it was because I threw my phone against the wall on Friday, and broke it into a lot of little pieces. _Or_ the fact that I flew out of my window and just _flew_ until early Saturday, and came back just because I was dead tired after only a few hours of flight. _Or_ it could have been that I basically beat up on my team members during the Mr. Logan session whenever I got the opportunity. _Or_, and this one was probably where he got the idea, that I banged on his door, told him I wanted to practice and that he was coming with me.

"This is supposed to be practice! I think you want something to maim!" He ducked and I felt those stupid tears sting my eyes, he seemed to notice them as well and it made him pause.

An opening! I grabbed his shirt collar and did the 'judo' flip that we were supposed to be practicing.

"Who says I'm _mad_?" And with that he went sailing across the weight room, far away from the mats.

Mr. Remy and Miss Rogue were coming in when he crash landed on the furthest wall, "Flying man, dat can only mean one t'ing."

I grabbed a towel and marched out the door as Miss Rogue finished his comment, "Angry woman."

Why did every one think I was mad? I wasn't mad! I was perfectly okay! Fine! _Peachy_!

"What'd you do to her?" Was the last comment I heard and banged the kitchen door open. I hadn't really had anything to eat since Friday afternoon at school, so I was starving.

"Watch out, red hot black bird in the room," Thanks for the announcement, Chris. I wasn't in any mood to be poked fun at. I wasn't upset though. Really, I wasn't.

"Hey, Kookie, what's wrong?" I growled out a 'nothing' and started to open the 'fridge. What was with the twenty questions? Couldn't they understand that I did _not_ want to talk about it? Not like there was an 'it' to talk about! I stood at the island after getting an orange for myself, and then Mr. _Scott_ walked over and in the sight of everyone asked _again_ what's wrong with me.

My wing hit him, and the other slammed the kitchen door open as they expanded with my temper, and clenched my fist that destroyed the orange.

"_Nothing _is the matter! _Stop_ asking me that!" Then I left the kitchen, my squashed orange remains dripping in my hand.

I was a hurt puppy, let me lick my wounds first or I would just bark and bite.

I was hurt-period.

* * *

"I bet I can make you happier." It was lunch, and while everyone else could see the big neon sign that read 'Leave me alone if you don't want a limp' this boy apparently _didn't_ take its warning seriously. K'Yo' (Kenney) might be dubbed the 'coolest' guy within the walls of SCPS, but not to me. Sure he'd been a worm and near me at any moment he could and stuff, but it was just annoying. I was learning to live with it though.

"I doubt it," I replied darkly, and Adrian (who was across the table from me) rolled his eyes. He sat with me all the time and put up with K'Yo' and his 'boys'. At lunch was the only time I saw a different Adrian come out, usually he's quiet and shy, but at lunch he was just one of the guys (but less of a pervert).

One thing K'Yo' could do to make me happy was _leave_. I didn't get chewed out for the kitchen fit, but I didn't think they liked not knowing what's going on. I'd been trained enough by Xavier to know how to hide my thoughts. At least hide my thoughts _better._

"Dude, trust me, leave the girl alone."

"You got dibs on her?" K'Yo' asked, and I felt my cheeks go red. "Wanna fight for her?" He said, laughing.

"Psh, that girl can fight for herself." Adrian retorted, "And would probably prefer it." He looked at me and _smiled _at that comment. A sheepish smile, too.

"I like them feisty!"

Adrian only shook his head and left the table for a moment, my eyes followed him to where Chris and Bobby-Pervert where arguing with forced smiles while Home Ec. teacher watched. This was just a recess for Chris, and Bobby-pervert had nothing better to do (and I think she, Home Ec. teacher, had a major thing for Bobby-pervert). Adrian's approach cut the verbal sparring short, I don't know what was being said but when of them looked over to where I was, and if looks could kill, K'Yo' would be a dead guy.

Wonder what bug bit his behind?

* * *

Come Tuesday, things weren't any better. And we (Adam and my team) had another Dangerous Room session to take on after school. That was no big problem. If it was the cannons, me and him got together on it (for once) and thought our way through about how to at least hope to put a dent in those stupid things. But Adam kept getting sidetracked on how they worked and how he wished he could take them apart instead of blowing them up.

Everyone was in their black _Matrix_ inspired suits (accept me, again), and stood in the middle of floor waiting for the new punishment to be pounded upon our young selves. I was still in a mood to break, throw, and destroy, so this session was working pretty well for me in the timing department.

"This is your second session as a team; let us hope that there have been some improvements in your teamwork and strategy." Nice job, Professor, two shots at the leaders with one sentence. This guy was a professional! "To make your sessions as real as possible, no two shall be alike back to back."

Oh that's not good.

"And as a bonus to whoever it is last standing at the end of this exercise, they will be omitted from one class of their choosing." Work as a team, but also be competitors? This _sucked_.

All of our planning just sprouted a pair of their own wings and flew out the window (or right into a window, which, speaking from experience, I would _not_ recommend!). We were stranded, _again_! How are we supposed to plan without knowing what we were going to be getting ourselves into?

"Starting simulation." And that was all the warning we got before these cliffs and junk sprouted out of thin air. I was stuck on a cliff, and it really looked like we were really outside. I couldn't see the others though. I knew they were still here, but where?

"What kind of sick joke _is _this!?" Well, found Chris. So much for stealth.

"_Eeeee!_ There's a _snake_ in here!" And D-M. She was _such_ a girl-girl. "And it's _looking_ at me!"

Adrian and Adam didn't scream about the simulation, I was too busy trying to figure out what the heck to do to even pay attention to _my_ position…or the person who was apparently behind me; at least not until they rammed into me and pushed me off the freakin' cliff.

I went head over heels over head before catching myself with my wings, and glared back at my pusher.

"_Mister Warren_?"

"It's Archangel when we're in the Danger Room, Kookie." Yeah, right. Archangel it was then. But as a blast from Cyclops passed _right_ in front of me, I knew what my code-name was going to be while in here: _Dead Meat_.

* * *

Wednesday came and went and the anger was seeping out of me. In fact everything seemed to be seeping out of me, in other words, I was crying. Thursday night I should have been be studying for my test the next day, but I couldn't even focus on the words in front of me, every time I picked up the book I kept thinking about the phone call.

Sure, the Danger Room session had taken my mind off of it for a moment or two, but there's nothing that could ever keep my mind from my new problem (really an old problem in a new disguise) forever. I threw the book down on the floor, grabbed Stitch, and sighed into the back of his soft blue head.

I opened my windows to look out as a distraction during (ha-ha) my studying. My stomach growled in irritation of being empty, I hadn't filled it up completely in almost a week. I closed my eyes and buried my face in Stitch's fur.

"You're going to get blue fuzz up your nose."

_What_! I nearly flipped off my bed I sat up so fast to look over at my door. _He_ stood there looking back at me as if innocent. "When'd you get here?"

"What? I knocked, you never answered."

"Oh, right." I watched him walk over before he plopped down at the foot of my bed and lay back with his arms behind his head.

He looked comfortable.

But I also had an excellent guess (suspicion) as to why he was here. I stared at him until he looked over at me and then I said, "I do _not_ want to talk about it."

"Good, 'cause I don't want to hear about it."

I glared at him, and he smiled at me like he didn't say anything wrong. He was sure a different person when it was just me and him than when we were in front of everyone. But of course I was guilty of that as well I suppose, but really who cared?

Also, if he thought I was dumb enough to fall for that reverse psychology junk, boy was he wrong!

So what if I talked to him about the private matters, it didn't mean I had to tell him about my mom. Just because you cry on a guy's shoulder a few times does not give him rights into all the things that make you weepy and pathetic to mad and willing to cause property damage!

So he just lay there waiting for something that was never going to come, nope, no way, I was not going to spill my guts to him and I wasn't going to start crying again.

"So," Finally! I thought we were just going to sit there in complete silence for the rest of the night. "How's school?"

I rolled my eyes and fell back on my pillows. Of all the dumbest things to ask, that had to be the king of them!

"You're there! You should know!"

"I never pay attention," He replied, waving it off like it was nothing. What a jerk! Argh! Then I remembered a few days ago when he sure seemed to be paying attention then.

"Really? Then what was up with giving the stink eye to K'Yo'?" I smirked as his expression got slightly annoyed at the other guy's name. "I seemed to have had your attention then, buddy."

He didn't answer for a moment or two, "You got a thing for that guy or what?"

I laughed, _long_ and _hard_. Me? Have a thing for _Kenney_? _Right._ "Definitely _or what_! That guy is such a-a-"

"Player? Jerk? Slime? Getting close?"

I smirked, deciding to tease him. "Are you jealous of wittle Kenney?"

He snorted it but—didn't _deny_ it.

Well, at least he made his opinion known, and after he left (an hour later) I rolled my eyes and repeatedly called myself a dummy. I couldn't believe I fell for such an _obvious_ trick! He came to cheer me up and I _let_ him! And he did it on purpose! Made me _stop_ thinking about—about Mom.

So much for not thinking about her.

I wished I could just put my brain on pause!

Or at least on mute.

* * *

"_Ah love this school_!" D-M shouted as she put a death grip on my neck with her arm and bounced up and down like her bunny rabbit self. I was gagging and trying to pry her off of me when she shoved a piece of paper under my nose (almost _in_ it). It was so close to my face that I couldn't even read the words. "Isn't this _awesome?_"

"It's a piece of paper," I wheezed out. She released my neck to put her hands on her hips and stuck her nose a bit further in the air.

"It's _more_ than 'a piece of paper' it's an announcement!" she corrected in a snobbish little way that I wanted to call her a valley girl just to see if she would say 'whatever'. "More importantly, it's an announcement for a school _dance_."

And this concerned me how? I didn't _do_ school dances, I didn't willingly go back to school for any reason that I could think of. Who does? I was one of those people who, at 3:00, all you see were Kerry tracks out the door and to the bus stop. I did not like dances. Mainly because the only time I went, I never got asked to dance, probably because I had cold and kept sneezing on everyone.

"Oh, yippee."

"Aren't you excited?"

"Ecstatic." I rolled my eyes, and started to make my way to the cafeteria. It was lunch, and Kookie was hungry. D-M waited until the hall only had the two of us in it, and then added some cruel words that made my face go red. It made my whole _body_ go red.

"Ah bet a certain _someone_ from the school would just _love_ to ask you to it!" I didn't like what she was implying. It did _not_ sound good like a good thing. "But then again, you wouldn't want to break any hearts, now would you?"

I swallowed hard, and looked over my shoulder, "Ha-ha. But I think Mr. Poovey is married, and he suits you better."

"Oh-kay, Ah was just playing!" She smiled at me with that funny kind of smile that puts me on edge, like a cat smiling at a cannery. "But who are you going to go with? Adrian? Chris? Or what about K'Yo'? He seems to want you."

"If you want him, you can have him." I then (basically) _ran_ to where Adrian and (ick) K'Yo' were chatting with his boys and the boys' girlfriends who all had their noses stuck so far up in the air I swear they were sniffing clouds.

"Took you long enough," Adrian greeted, letting me sit down by him. "What held you up?"

"If it wasn't me, I'll beat them into a bloody pulp," Kenney threatened.

Ha! Like he could beat anybody up! He might have had muscles, but the school uniform shirts kept them well hidden.

Little did I know what I would have to do!

"I was stomping through the daises," I said cheerfully and stole a fry off of Adrian's tray.

And even smaller still was the fact that my Mom and her ways were not out of the picture yet.

This was my life as I knew it.


	30. Set up! Over and Over again!

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 030_**

* * *

It stunk!

Literally! I walked into my room after school and about lost what little lunch I had. It smelt rotten in there! I slammed the door shut and ran across the hall to breathe again. It was _so _gross! And somehow it hadn't leaked into the rest of the hall. And if _anyone_ has ever smelled something so nasty that it took all your strength to convince yourself to go back to the place of stinkdom and hunt out the source then they know how I felt.

I had to keep reminding myself that if I went in and got the whatever out, that it would be better than asking for a different room, and _certainly _better than spending the night in D-M's room. So I took a deep breath and charged in my room, and before my face turned blue and my stomach turned inside out, I found the source.

Half of a watermelon.

Rotten and cut open down the middle and left under my bed.

Along with a computerized smiley face that was apparently left as someone's calling card.

I noticed later, after the stink bomb was thrown out my window and right onto the Professor's balcony (I kept forgetting about that, it apparently almost hit him because he called me right after in my mind rather _loudly_ to come clean it up), and that Chris' phone was missing.

Someone that left his calling card so cleverly sure didn't have the brains to stop me from taking one good guess at who the prankster was.

The boy was goin' down.

* * *

In the middle of the night I sat up straight in my bed, and only one thought pounded in my mind.

_Get to the bathroom __**now**__!_

And I followed my stomach! And it followed my feet straight into the bathroom, where I had to bump into someone.

"Hey Kook-_ooaff_!" Was all I heard from the person I politely moved (slammed into the door) as I skidded, hit my knees, and promptly started to give back to the world everything I eaten that day.

It was _so_ disgusting having it happen, not to mention embarrassing that I was wondering how long it had been since they _cleaned_ the toilets, but the person I had rammed into on my way in decided to be nice and hold my hair back. He pulled my hair back from my face because my hands were too busy gripping the side of the 'porcelain god'. It took all I had not to wonder if anything had grown under the seat and now was being transferred to my fingers.

"Ugh, this is disgusting."

Oh, you think? I thought I was barfing rainbows and unicorns. He continued to make disgusted noises and little comments about how much I eat. I would have gotten mad, or laughed, but you really don't want to see the result of either by a vomiting person-it's not pretty.

Like anything about a situation like this was pretty!

Once I was done, and caught my breath I was thankful I had nothing left to be sick with because everyone knows how nasty it smells. Shaking, I turned around and before I could say anything he told me to very bluntly that he didn't want to hear anything from me until I washed my mouth out, to 'spare his nose'. What a nice guy (couldn't you feel my eyes roll?).

After I washed out the nasty taste from my mouth with someone else's mouth wash that I didn't think they ever used (because it was sort of discolored and had dust on it). I shook my head, trying to make the images, which led me here, go away.

"Besides disgusting, what was all that about?"

Mr. Compassionate, let me tell you!

"I had a bad dream." It was partly true. I had a bad dream and a horrible memory in between the bad dreams.

"One hell of a dream," he commented half-heartedly.

"You have no idea," I muttered. It was more than a week ago my mom called and the nightmares were only getting worse. If they kept up I didn't doubt Professor Xavier would get wise to them and want me to 'talk them over'.

"Then give me one." I looked at him funny. "Give me an idea about, uh, this," he clarified, tipping his head toward the toilet.

It was probably close to four in the morning, no one else was around, Mr. Remy and Mr. Logan (the late nighters), had recently been lectured about appropriate hours in which to come in or they could sleep on the stoop. And the others were probably still in bed, or down in their labs playing mad scientist. I had to tell someone, or I'd never be able to eat again and keep it down.

Except cookies, I could _always_ eat cookies.

"It was about my family." I sighed and looked back at him; he leaned against a shower stall door and raised his eyebrow. "My mom—called me."

"What?" Okay, you could just imagine the disbelief. I hadn't told anyone and _everyone_ knew about her having a hand in the sentinel attack.

"My mom called me," I repeated, I felt my frown getting deeper. My anger was coming back threefold.

"What did she have to say?"

"Nothing much. Just wanted the school's address, and wanted to know how I was, I said fine and she hung up after that." Yeah, yeah, yeah, why get so emotional over such a _lack_ of conversation. Have _your_ mother ignore you for half a year, finally call, ask two questions, get the answers and then hang up. Trust me you'd be a wee bit annoyed and angry and upset and flipping people across the weight room, too. "I'm going to bed. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

I began to leave when: "Uh, Kerry," I turned around to see him tapping the handle of the toilet with a very worried expression on his face. "Kookie, we have a problem."

"What?" I asked half-way out the door and to fresh air.

"It won't flush."

* * *

I could just hurt myself!

Just fly out the window and forget to open my wings.

I was just _such _a genius sometimes that I did hurt myself.

Number one rule in some book about this crazy teenaged stuff that I never got into was probably 'lie about it' because if you didn't you'd get doped into doing something so dumb that you wished you could beat your head against a brick.

What the heck was I talking about?

The dance D-M was so thrilled with, that she _insisted_ we go shop especially for, the Welcome Back dance. Apparently you had to go in couples, either with a date or friend. Me being the moron that I tended to be without thinking about it (I was more of one when I did think about it, now that I think about it, but that's just going to lead to trouble) I didn't realize a set-up conversation when I heard one and participated in it!

But before that, let me tell you about someone I met earlier on Tuesday. This girl's name was Nikki Johansen. She was Daisy-Mae's friend, and sometimes referred to as Nikki-Jo. I had no idea what was with the cutesy names and such, but back to our meeting. I was dragging my feet getting to Western Civ. with the Hitler of the school, Mr. Poovey (it sounded like something out of a puppy's back end if you asked me), when I ran into D-M and this Nikki girl.

"Oh! Niks, this is Kookie, oh, Ah mean _Kerry,_" she said smiling and doing that hugging shoulder thing to me. This girl was more likely to be at the mansion than I was. She was tall, thin, long curly (perfectly, not one stinkin' strand out of place!) blonde hair, and just all around a pretty girl. I didn't like her because of that, but those types of dislikes are short lived. I mean, I lived with beauty models, ones who could put Miss Universe to shame on their _worst_ days, so I learned to let it go.

"_You're_ Kerry?" Oh-kay, note in the voice was _not_ a happy one. That supposed 'woman's intuition' or something kicked in. "Huh, I expected a little-more."

I was lost. More? Did she want me to turn off my image inducer and show her my wings? What _more_ was she talking about? More hip? More skirt? More of a Miss Moo? More _what_?

"Kerry's really cool once you get to know her," D-M pointed out, which, I might add, was the first time I could clearly remember being referred to as 'cool' by anyone other than my little sister. But I didn't want to start thinking about that, I'd start judo flipping people every which way, and with all the girls that where in the hall yakking, it would look like a Justin Beiber concert with all the girls flying every way.

And more _what_?

"Uh-huh, I'm _so_ sure. I'm going to be late, see you around Dais."

And then me and D-M went to class, but not before she shrugged at 'Niks' attitude and said she had a reason for not liking me, and that she'd tell me later.

This led up to the utterly _stupid_ thing I fell for like a complete and total moron. But why give you that conversation when I could just remember how my 'friends' reacted to the news? Because as soon as D-M found out (me and my big mouth, if my foot wasn't always in it, it leaked information that was wiser to conceal) she announced it.

I needed to become a mute.

* * *

"You're going with _who_?" I glared at Chris, and turned my nose up in the air like a true Miss Priss. "I can't believe you doped him into taking you!"

I growled my own little pathetic growl, "I didn't _ask_ him. He tricked me."

"A guy tricked you into going to the dance with him?" Adam's asked, bewildered.

"Yeah," For the second time that week, I should have realized a set up conversation when I started to walk into it.

"I thought you were supposed to be learning strategy to do that to _other_ person, not to have it done to you." I glared at him, his eyebrows rose above his glasses before he shrugged and went back to his book.

"It seems like you could take lessons from Kenney, Kookie," D-M put out there, "Of course, maybe you _willingly _fell for it, eh?" She nudged me with her elbow and winked.

Oh yeah, I _wanted_ to be asked by that creep to the dance. Oh yeah, _sure_ that's exactly right. I couldn't _stand_-okay, so I'd learned to stand him, but that did _not_ mean I liked him. I still had enough of my sanity to be incapable of that!

* * *

"You are just bein' stubborn, girl," Miss Rogue fussed. She was about to start yelling, and Miss Oreo had tried every approach known to man to get me to bend, but there was just no way I was ever going to wear that thing they had the nerve to call a uniform. Sure Miss Rogue wore a skin tight green cat suit, but hers at least covered everything!

"It is for your benefit to wear the uniform," Miss Oreo tried again. Oh yeah, sure for my benefit! To what, have it ride up in unpleasant places? I think it benefited the guys _more_ because they got a free show! I just crossed my arms in defiance, but no matter what, it was taking everything inside me not to let my knees and will buckle in front of them. I was stubborn, but I was also very compliant.

"Let her have it her way," Mrs. Jean (also in skin tight spandex) said, walking out of the locker room. She's a red head, and I'd seen her lose her temper. She didn't go for people not agreeing with her, so why the sudden change of heart?

"Fine, be stubborn!" Miss Rogue flung her arms in the air, following Mrs. Jean.

"Report to the Danger Room then, Kerry."

* * *

"I got the _perfect_ name for that session…Kookie-_exposed_!"

Yeah, laugh it up you uncaring meanie! Adam and the others could joke about it but what the heck was I supposed to do? They set me up! Those XXX-Men had things rigged so they got their way by friend or foe. You did it their way or you did it their way.

"What's wrong, Kerry? Didn't you like that session?" Chris kept on. "I know more about you now than I _ever_ wanted to."

"You should have just put on the uniform, shugah." Miss Rogue pointed out, as she and a few others of the upperclassmen walked by, shaking their heads and laughing at my blood red face.

They were _so_ cruel!

I went into the Danger Room and they set me up! I was in a lose T-shirt (the same borrowed one from before, but washed) and jeans. This time they had us in a giant clock like thing, this was to 'show us the necessary reasons for having the style of uniforms' they designed. And this was the only clock in creation big enough to incorporate _cannons_ into its mechanisms.

_Cannons _in a clock…that's some alarm!

This was where they got sneaky, I don't know who aimed the cannon at me, but it was, and I got hit. I was actually _slammed_ into the gears, but they didn't give, oh no, instead the gears grabbed a hold of my clothes!

I wasn't talking about it chocking me, which would have been a blessing; instead I had the clothes ripped off of me! I just stood there in my bare essentials, course I covered myself with my wings as quickly as possible while I transformed into a giant tomato of embarrassment.

"I trust the session on Saturday, you will be properly attired?" Professor asked with a hint of amusement in his voice but that was it. A _hint_. Like I had a choice? It was either the black swimsuit thing, or have no clothes at all (underwear and a bra was pretty bare to me)!

Nodding, I tightened the borrowed jacket from Adrian (his uniform was one of the only ones with a jacket) and tried to escape the torment from my team.

"I think they need to up those training sessions, Chunky-flying-monkey butt." Chris smirked when as I went redder (don't ask me how, I just _did_). D-M slapped him on his arm (hard!) and told him to grow up. "Don'tcha agree with me, Adrian?"

"I think she looks pretty good."

Silence.

"Uh-wait, I-I-"

"_Too _late, dude. You're caught!" Adam poked him in the shoulder, with a huge grin on his face.

I was still in shock. What was _wrong_ with Adrian?

But at least someone else was blushing along with me, but what did he mean? He was just being a friend, yeah, that's right, just a friendly little thing to say. Right?

Right.


	31. Fights & Dance?

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 031_**

* * *

"_Kenney_?" Adrian was so loud, and we were in the middle of the video store, it was Thursday night, the night before the supposed dance and I had let it slip with who I was forced to go. The store was crowded and everyone was now staring at us, or at least it felt like it.

"I-I-it wasn't like I wanted to!" I defended myself, like I had been all week, against this myth that I _liked_ that annoying child named K'Yo'.

"Bull crap!" That's the first time I _ever_ heard pacifist Adrian ever remotely use a word even resembling a curse. "You _wanted_ to go with him!"

I was getting mad, and when I got mad and embarrassed, two things happened, I shout and the other….

My wings shoot out.

So when my wings (under the image inducer) spread, down went the DVDs!

_BAM! _

_CLICK CLICK CLICK_.

"_Whoa!_ Watch out!"

We certainly had everyone's attention after that. I blushed like mad, and Adrian just took a deep breath, threw down the movie he had picked out, and started to leave. Well, not before he grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside with him.

In Salem Center there weren't many things, but what they did have nearby was an alley where Adrian led me to. Had I lacked the ability to kick his hinny (let's pretend I could, okay?) I would have gotten nervous. Adrian might act like a, uh, wimp, but that boy had a built body!

"How could you go with _Kenney_?" Adrian asked after pacing around the mouth of the alley for a while. I was already lit from the whole scene he pulled in the video store. I didn't like attention when it's not good, heck, I didn't like a ton of attention when it _was_ good.

"He tricked me." So I lied, so what else was new?

"Oh, yeah, I can see that idiot tricking someone like _you_."

Huh? Wait a sec, "What do you mean someone like me?"

"You're too smart to be fooled by that muscle-brained moron. At least I thought you were!" Adrian kicked a can, and seemed to lose some of his steam. "You must really like him, huh?" Was said softer but trust me, he could have sang it in the most beautiful voice and my reaction would have been the same.

All week I'd been trying to get people to understand that I did _not_ like that _jerk_ and if wasn't for Adrian I wouldn't be in this mess! I could have stood there, yelled, shouted, and threatened bodily harm to him (which wouldn't be much considering he was a _very_ strong boy), so I decided to go the route that would have me feeling bad the rest of the night.

"Geez, _Adrian_, just because you were _too_ shy to ask me, you don't have the right to get all jealous. It sure does make you ugly."

He looked amazed, shocked, and hurt all in one. I could just hear his heart being crushed like two cars colliding going eighty, and all because I was being a little jerk (ha! Little! I was being a _major_ jerk). Adrian's mouth hung open and all he did was stare at me for a moment or two.

I should have tried to apologize.

It was then I started to feel bad, but it wasn't until after Adrian said his piece that I felt rotten.

"Man, Kerry, I thought you were more—I dunno, just more than that."

Hello rotten feeling! He left after that. Just turned around and walked away.

I knew I should have concentrated on his feelings, but five minutes later, I had a memory strike me.

Adrian and I came into town together to get some movies. _He_ had the keys. _He_ left. That meant I either had to walk the ten miles back from town, or suck it up and call for a ride.

I shouldn't have said what I said to him in the first place, but I should _really_ not have said it because he had the car and its keys!

* * *

"You look happy." I sighed and climbed into the vehicle. Putting on my belt, I sunk back in my seat (as much as one can with wings). Mr. Summers raised an eyebrow over his glasses, shrugged, and started to drive out of the town. "So are you going to tell me _why_ Adrian told me to come pick you up or am I suppose to guess?"

I turned my head away from the driver and watched as the people walked by. I didn't feel like talking about it. I didn't know why everyone always felt like it would help me, it didn't help me. It just made me feel even worse. "Guess away."

He was quiet and I thought he wasn't going to say anything at first, but then he laughed and took a guess, "You two had a fight."

Good guess.

Obviously all that time with Mrs. Jean taught this man a thing or two.

"Yeah."

"And do I have to guess what it was about?" I didn't answer, "I'll take your silence as another yes." Another pause, "Now let me see if the gossip network works as well as it did when I was your age." Ut-uh, that couldn't be good. He might actually have been able to guess what it was about. "Adrian likes you, and because of some reason or another, you are going to go to this 'dance' with some other guy." His wife was a telepath and the mouth operator of gossip central! Should have known she related everything to him. "And you two fought about it, and he, or you, said some nasty things to each other and he took off."

Guess you win a pointless Kookie prize, or in other words, me talking to him. "Yeah."

Hey, I said I'd talk to him, I never said how long.

The rest of the short time was spent in silence, he just hummed along with the radio, but at the end, when I was getting out of the car, he happily reminded me of something. "Oh, Kookie, I just remembered, you have monitor duty tonight."

Oh joy.

* * *

I checked the roaster for the monitor duty. I rarely did because I didn't like seeing _Kookie_ in big, bold caps on one of the slots. My name was written over Mr. Bishop's and with the word 'out' by the reason. The person I was supposed to be with was the one who probably didn't want to see me.

Adrian (actually it read _Flex_ but that was just Adrian's codename).

I sighed, and walked in ready for the cold treatment.

And boy did I ever get it, but not in the way that I thought. _Bobby_-Pervert was there instead, making little snowmen on the control panel.

"Hey! Kookie! Nice of you to come."

I just stood there totally amazed that _he_ was here. "Where's Adrian?"

He gave me a lopsided smile, and let his little men dissolve.

"He _begged_ me to take this slot because of someone's temper tantrum. He felt like the ultimate punishment would be to deprive you of his company."

"And curse me with yours, yay."

Bobby-Pervert got a funny look on his face and stuck his tongue, "Someone is being extra sensitive all of a sudden." Then he laughed at his own comment and as I sat down he decided to add something, "Then again, you've always been a bit touchy."

I glared at him, and he ignored me. _Argh_! Jerk.

"So what was the fight about?" Oh, brother. Was everyone nosey? "'Cause, you know, if two of my students have a problem, then me, being you're most adored teacher, should-"

"Oh, cut it out." I faced the monitors in hopes of seeing my soap opera squirrels again, but so far they still weren't on the scene.

"Okay, seriously then, why are you two fighting?" Bobby-Jerk's voice went like an octave deeper when he's being all serious and stuff. I was so amazed he actually _could_ be serious that I answered him.

"I'm going to the dance with someone who apparently no one approves of, who happens to be Kenney."

"That little playboy who wears a bottle of cologne and a glob of grease in his hair?" Oh, sure, no one had a positive opinion about this guy. It wasn't like I did either; I just had a better idea about him was all. It wasn't like I _liked_ him or anything; I still was _not_ capable of that. Nope. Nope!

"Don't go passing judgment; if I remember correctly, you are Mr. Bachelor." I was getting the snobby curse again. My mouth wasn't checking with my niceness or my brain, heck, it wasn't checking with _anything_.

"That's my personal choice," he added with a dramatic pose, "Besides it's better than being doped into something—not mentioning any names, _Kerry_."

I growled under my breath some words even _I_ didn't even understand, but Bobby-pervert just glanced at me and told me he was more threatened by Wolverine's snores than he was of whatever I just said. I glared at him, which he _again_, ignored.

He was such a _boy_.

_Argh_!

"Anyway, how exactly did you get 'tricked' into it? He asked and you said yes?"

I didn't even spare him a mean look, Bobby-Pervert wasn't paying attention to them anyway, so why waste the energy of a perfectly good glare if there wasn't a person to notice it?

"_No_. He just—pointed out something." Like the fact that he knew something about Adrian. I couldn't tell anyone about it, it wasn't their problem. I was supposed to be co-leader and so I was _supposed_ to take responsibility. Apparently Kenney told me that a person notices a lot in the locker rooms during football practice, and Adrian seemed to be displaying some rather unique trait, something different from the rest of the guys.

I just _knew_ Kenney meant he knew Adrian was a mutant, or at least had his suspensions about it. I couldn't tell anyone about it, because Adrian would get in trouble for letting his control slip or something odd like that.

"What, that you almost drool over him now?"

My mouth hung open, and I looked at him with eyes three times their normal size. "_Ex-cuse _me?" Oh kay, needed to stop hanging around with D-M since I was starting to like a valley girl.

"Come on, I go to the same place you do five days out of seven, and at night I'm in the same HALL as you, I noticed a thing or two about you and Kenney's interactions."

"Like we don't HAVE any?"

"Let me demonstrate," He sat up in his chair, and swiveled around to face me. "Oh come _ooon,_ Kenney. I mean, K'Yo'," Bobby-pervert said this in a high-pitched voice, and let rip a fake giggle. "You are _so_ not funny! Te he!" He then flipped his imaginary hair. "Go to the dance? _Well_, sure! I'd _love_ to with a guy as _fine_ as you! Te he!"

I felt an odd feeling tingling all over my body. The more he played around in the chair and kept up his act, the stronger the feeling became. The tingling seemed to hit all at once, except my wings, they only twitched a few times. My head was swimming with the information my body was taking on about the changes it was receiving, and Bobby-jerk wasn't helping.

Ever got so mad that you couldn't control yourself?

Take it from someone who couldn't, you learned to live to regret it.

* * *

It wasn't easy to get Bobby-Pervert to even _talk_ to me after I slammed him and the chair in the wall. See, I hit it (the chair) and not only did it seem that my strength increased, but also my skin started to shed. I didn't know my skin had dried until I woke up Friday morning and there it was, all over me, and my bed. _So_ disgusting.

I felt like a snake that sheds its skin, but at least the snake _knows_ when it does it!

My sheets were now being washed.

Ick.

Even in Business Math, Mr. Drake and Adrian forgot I existed (not that I could blame them) and ignored me. The _twirp_ "accidentally" misplaced my test paper when he was handing them back, said that it probably got lost when he "accidentally" back flipped in his chair. Oh no, he didn't hold a grudge.

I thought the nightmare was over when I got back to the mansion after school, but lo and behold the nightmare known as Daisy-Mae Girly-Girl was there. And I didn't get _any_ say in being shoved into the bathroom with my supplies, towel, and told (threatened) to freshen up because she had "big plans" for me. As long as it didn't mean 'big hair' (I'd seen Dolly Parton, and I'd been scared).

But because I didn't have anything else to do, and wasn't up for a lecture about power and the responsibility of it all, I did as I was told (that's a first, huh?). After which I ran across the hall to start the dressing process.

I opened the first drawer.

I shut my drawer, took a deep breath, and then reopened it.

It was just as empty as the first time I opened it.

I didn't know why I thought that it was just going to magically put back all the things that were _supposed_ to be in there. But nothing was in that empty, wooden place but air.

Oh, this was _bad_.

Not a single stitch of clothing.

And it was _needed_ clothing.

I was about to flip out and start searching through all my drawers when a small piece of paper on the floor caught my attention.

It was a digital smiley face.

_Chris_! That jerk stole my _panties_ and _bras_!

What a pervert!

There was a _serious_ lack of modesty when one was _mad_.

So without anything more on than my towel, I marched next door, and slammed the door open.

The sight I saw stopped me cold.

Chris looked at me with a confused face and one of my bras in his hands!

"_You pervert_!" Was the first thing to come to mind, _after_ that happened my mind thought of several words to label him.

"What? Is this yours?"

Well, _duh_.

I marched over, grabbed my bra out of his hand, glared into his opened drawer which was filled with my missing stuff, and then back at him. "What, you've stolen so much you forgot what is whose?" I was fit to be tied.

"I didn't steal your crap! I don't even want to think that this has even _touched_ you! It's so gross I might end up barfin'!" Chris lost his confused position and went to the mad one instead. "You probably put this in here just for some sick kicks!"

"The _only_ kick I'm going to be doing is your butt! You are _so_ disgusting!" I grabbed the entire drawer from where it was and started to stomp from the room. Another mean thought crept into my mind, down my throat, and into my mouth, "and knowing _you_ and your self-proclaimed dammed up hormones _you_ probably wore them for _your_ sick kicks."

"Oh whatever!" He screamed, but I was already half-way back into my room, "Your fat pants wouldn't even fit!"

I hated boys.

* * *

What D-M meant by 'big plans' equaled up to skin-tight jeans, the black see-through shirt, and some type of sandal that was more or less a piece of plastic with a strip of leather across the toe (a high-heeled piece of plastic might I add). Oh, and the hair wasn't big, it was just so hairsprayed every imaginable direction that it looked like it hadn't been brushed in two months.

Apparently, this was the 'style'. Yeah, I could see how half dressed; fluffy hair is the latest trends.

I missed my jeans and baggy t-shirts!

How did I get talked into this? I was not even sure. But the thing was I told her I didn't want to give 'K'Yo'' the _wrong_ idea. She said that only if I acted in all the right ideas would he give the wrong one.

I had yet to translate that in to terms I could understand.

We got to the dance, (we being Adrian, Chris, D-M and me, Adam wasn't a student and therefore couldn't come) and of course Kenney was waiting outside (remember it's a couples only thing). D-M dragged Chris along, I thought it was hilarious (and he deserved it the letch) that she was all dolled up, and he looked as grungy as ever.

"Whoa! You look _hot_! Forget the dance; let's go find a quiet, _dark_ place."

That's it, next time _Adrian_ could deal with his problem of keeping secrets. Kenney grabbed me around the waist and I tried to push away.

I thought Adrian might come to my rescue (hey, he was _supposed_ to like me, if he did or not, I didn't know) but he was occupied with his date, Nikki. I felt a growl in my throat start to rise.

"Hey hey! None of that kiddies! At least wait until you're in the inside for that kind of stuff!"

Oh thank you for your intervention, but you _could_ have chosen something better to say, _Bobby_.

"Sure thing Mr. Drake." What! Kenney knew how to show _respect_ to someone? "I didn't know you were chaperoning."

"Someone's got to turn the hose on the kids when it gets a too hot." The music started to blast through the doorway, "Sounds like the party is starting without you two."

"Yeah, come on _baaa_-_bee_!" Kenney then 'escorted' me into the building but not before Bobb-Mr. Drake, decided to yell at me.

"Hey, Kookie, knock him off his feet." Then he smirked. He was such a vindictive little man; I couldn't even begin to imagine him _not_ being single. Of course he was relating back to the chair incident (which was _so_ hard to explain to the next group of monitor watchers, see, the chair had been _bolted_ to the ground, and now there was a bent chair leaned against the wall and a huge hole in the floor).

* * *

Naturally I was forced to dance with Kenney most of the time, but I soon proved I could _not_ 'bump and grind' and after people behind me kept mysteriously getting knocked over (thanks to my wings) I decided to sit some out. Kenney said he'd be keeping an eye on me but I didn't think he meant it; his eye had been on anyone who had a B-cup and showed their navel.

Not that I minded, until I noticed Adrian apparently knew how to 'get down' and was doing so with Nikki. I grumbled and felt something stir in my mind, I was thankful they were both wearing pants or else she'd wind up pregnant.

D-M was talking more than anything, floating between cliques, and gathering the latest gossip. She'd come over to me every now and then to tell me about some of the people at the school (most of who I had never heard of) and that 'Mr. Drake' was voted most likely to be a girl's personal 'toy' should any of them ever get the chance.

Sick, sick girls. Didn't they know he might look okay, but he was _such_ a butt-head at times?

I was perfectly happy stewing around the dark table, when Adrian walked up from out of nowhere. I stared at him, and he did the same to me for a while, adverted his eyes, sighed, and started to talk.

"DJ's playing a slow song coming up," he pointed out. "I would like, if we could, just for the span of a song, forget yesterday, and -"

"Yes," There went my mouth without checking with my brain! Adrian looked at me, and smiled that shy boyish smile that he's become popular for (according to the Rumor Wheel of Daisy's knowledge).

"Good."

* * *

"You've _got_ to!" D-M whined pulling me to my doom. "I say so!"

"Well, I say a lot of things, but you never do them."

"That's because I don't have to listen to you," she leaned closer, "out of uniform."

I sighed, the dance with Adrian was spent in silence, he'd sneak glances at me, and I felt worse than before. I didn't know why, but it was just something that was making me feel lousy about the way I treated him (and that was only adding to the lousy feeling I had earlier). But now D-M insisted that we swap dates for one dance at _least_.

That meant, "Here you go, Chrissy! You're dance partner."

Chris looked at her, his blue eyes in their normal glaring state, and shot a dark expression at me (who was glaring back at him), "No freakin' way."

"You say that like you _got_ a choice. Remember our deal." D-M gave a smile. One of those _creepy_ smiles because it was bridging on a smirk.

"Fine, but just get this straight _Koo_-_kee_, this ain't my idea." I rolled my eyes as D-M pushed us to the floor as the song (slow of course) started to play.

"I know that you idiot," I snapped back. For a bit we stood there, cross armed, and looked off in different directions. We would have been happy to stay like that but that annoying little voice of reason (ha-ha) came around again.

"You actually have to _touch_ each other, you know. To do it right." Bobby-Pervert was on the dance floor with a student! She was an arm's length away from him and must have been one of the shyer girls as she seemed more interested in the floor and through her light brown hair, there was no mistaking the blush.

"Oh, gross."

"I'm not giving _him_ some cheap thrill," I retorted, stuck my tongue out at Chris who did the same.

"Saving it all for your _date_?" He asked, and then disappeared into the crowd without another word.

Tonight was just _not_ my night.

"You two better start or Ah'll make you do it again!" D-M hollered from where she was wrapped up with K'Yo'.

I _hmphed_, sighed, and scowled at my supposed partner. "I don't want to do this again."

"No worries about _that_." And without another word, I put my hands on his shoulders, and his setteled on my hips.

"You better watch where your hands go, Sparky." Chris gave me an annoyed look, and rolled his eyes.

We must have come off as two junior high students because we barely moved, never even tried to move in closer—at least until Nikki and D-M came out of crowd and one pushed me and one pushed Chris, and we, in effect, were sandwiched together.

"_Yuck_!" He and I jumped apart, but were quickly pushed together again.

"You two better start getting closer, or Ah won't be happy!" Daisy warned. When'd I become her foot soldier? This bites.

"Ow!" I yelped, stepping away from Chris, though he still had his hands on me. "You did that on purpose!" He stepped on my foot!

"Oh yeah, I have no other creative methods of getting back at you so I resorted to petty methods."

"Sounds like you."

"Is it over yet?" he asked looking up to the ceiling. I glared at him, and then returned the earlier favor. "Ouch!"

"Sorry!" I apologized in faux sweetness.

That's when we found out what to do the rest of the song (which seemed like an eternity) and that was to attempt to stomp on one another's feet. We'd gotten so adamant about it, people started to move away from us.

And needless to say, D-M didn't make us dance together again.

* * *

"Kookie." I nearly jumped out of my skin (which I could do _literally_) when Bobby-Jerk came up behind me. And here I thought I had found the perfect hiding spot. Kenney had completely forgotten about me, and so did the rest of them. Out of sight, out of mind. Almost. "What are you doing in the shadows…alone?"

"Nothing."

"That's good. But to fit in with the rest of the shadow-dwelling kids, you might want to pretend you're making out, sucking someone's blood, or something." 'Mr. Drake' hit me lightly on the shoulder.

"I'm hiding."

"I figured that out by myself," he tapped his head, "college degree hard at work."

Mr. Drake looked out to where everyone else was gathered, contorting their bodies in almost unnatural (most definitely uncomfortable) positions to the beat of the music. I thought he was going to leave me alone because he turned to go, but then, without warning, he grabbed my wrist, and dragged me after him.

"Huh?" Was my intelligent response, as always the genius was prepared for any new development that might arise. _Ha_!

"Next slow one," he gave me an exaggerated smile, "Just because I have with all my other students."

My mouth jumped the gun again, "Even the male ones?"

Bobby-Pervert stopped cold in his tracks, turned around, and answered, "Do I look like a man who could afford that many lawsuits?"

* * *

It was _finally_ coming to a close.

It felt like an entire _week_, but was only five or six hours of pure 'bliss'.

Ha-ha. I just made a 'funny'.

Kenney, like I mentioned before, had forgotten me long ago and was talking with some barely dressed girl with bows in her hair and cleavage falling out of her shirt. I would have made fun of her, but nix the bows and you got what I looked like (but I kicked off the sandals, they just _hurt_-at least that was what Chris said).

"Dance with me?" It was _him_; I thought _he_ was mad at me still. Every other male in our little school group seemed to be upset with me at that point. Sure we had danced one, but he quickly walked off afterward.

"Uh, won't that get some looks?" I asked, knowing full well that if D-M saw us dancing another dance, her little mind would start to race with the possibilities.

"And I'm supposed to care?"

Well, to put in the best way I knew how: _duh_!

"People might get the wrong idea…" I tried to defend the sanity of it all, but then he did that dang smile-the-boyish grin that was lined with mischief (completely irresistible if anyone had ever been on the receiving end of one of those smiles) and I knew I was losing the battle with myself! How could I duke it out with him if I really wasn't up for the fight, well, all of me wasn't.

He leaned in closer, that same smile on his lips, and whispered, "I bought you a stuffed animal, and even took care of you when you were sick, don't you think I've earned one more dance from you?"

Brain…shutting…down…_he _was _so _close… brain going, heck brain _gone_ bye-bye.

All I did was sort of nod, and of course, we danced.

Big deal right?

Then why didn't my brain start to function properly until _after_ his cologne wasn't being breathed in, and his gorgeous eyes weren't looking at me anymore?

I was turning into _such_ a girl-girl. I needed help; I needed to be one tough Kookie!

Not Kookie Dough!

But _man_ did he look _good_.

Ah! Stop! Stop!


	32. Barbque and things

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 032**_

* * *

Deep breaths to calm down. Big long deep breaths.

I cracked an eye to look down at the thing in front of me.

It didn't disappear, get more cloth, or even look more comfortable.

My uniform stared back at me and if it had a tongue, it would be sticking it out.

I dared to pick it up off my bed, and took another deep breath (how else were you supposed to get skin _tight_ spandex on?) I wanted to fuss and fight about it, but then I had a very clear memory of the rest of the team I was supposed to be co-leader of bursting out in laughter and me blushing like mad when my clothes were ripped off.

After putting it on, and adjusting it in several positions, I looked in the full-length mirror that had been provided, and automatically wished I didn't look.

As I (with wings tight around me) went down to the big metal room with guns, I had a thought (very dangerous for me), how the _heck_ was I supposed to keep it from riding up my behind?

* * *

"Whoa! Look at those thighs!" Chris said as soon as I walked in, "Look at all that jiggle!"

"Why are you looking, pervert!" I shot back, and then glared at him. I felt so exposed; maybe it would have been better if I just came in my underwear after all. But of course I got the image of Chris running around in them because you know, he did _steal_ them.

The newbies where in the Dangerous place, and so were the other upper class people. For once they weren't attempting to play god with our fate by shooting at us (though it probably was an excellent way to relieve stress).

"Wow!" D-M shouted clapping and running up to me. "You look _so_ cute!"

"_Shammmooooo_!" Chris went on, but only until Daisy elbowed him in his side.

"Don't listen to him; he's just jealous because his uniform shows off his flabby behind."

"Dude, why are you even _looking_ at his 'flabby behind' anyway?"

"Because _she'd_ punch me if I looked at hers."

And how exactly would I know? I didn't have eyes in the back of my head (or anywhere lower). They could look all they wanted (I didn't know why though) but if they started touching _then_ we had a problem.

"It is nice to see everyone on time and dressed in the proper attire." I could have sworn I saw him smirk, just a _tiny_ one, but I think that there was most definitely a _smirk_ at the end of his words. "There is a very good reason as to why we make you do this."

"This?" Adam asked, and the Professor nodded, but he didn't answer, _Scott_ did.

"The Danger Room and personalized training sessions, and yes, even the uniforms, Kookie."

Major blush on the cheeks.

"To distract the bad guys with bad fashion taste?" Chris asked, Bobby-Pervert gave him a nasty look. I _still_ didn't know the story between those two, but it must have been something interesting. I guess I could have tried to ask one of them, but I was afraid they'd bite off my head or try to joke it off. Joking it off wouldn't be bad if the jokes weren't so horrible.

"Not quite. They are to allow flexibility without the hindrance of clothing. That way we have optimal use of our body and powers," Came Miss Oreo's reply. Of course none of _them_ would object to it, they all had killer bodies. Both the males and females.

"We aren't going to be fightin' y'all again?"

Oh my goodness, I hoped not, I was getting bruised just thinking about it.

Professor then smiled, and that was creepy. It's not relaxing as some people think, oh no, it sent chills down my spine. The last time I saw that smile I ended up at school with Bobby-Pervert, and then in a giant clock that striped me of my clothes. Needless to say, I _really _didn't like that smile.

"No, but I would like to remind you all of why you are here. And why we put you through all the various exercises." Kerry zoned out now. "I would appreciate it if _all_ of you tried your hardest to pay attention."

"I think that means you, Miss A.D.D."

Oh, shut-up, Bobby-Pervert.

"Professor, I think the rest of us should get things ready for the day?"

The Professor nodded, and then continued with his speech as _Scott_ and the others yawned as they walked past us. Oh great, we had to suffer through this alone. So Professor went on about why we had to be separated from our families for a better future. But at the mention of family my heart broke. I couldn't help it. No one else had this problem from what I understood.

D-M's family sent her here in order to become better with her healing powers, and they called and wrote her all the time. She even got packages from them with various things, mostly pictures. I missed pictures of my family. I wondered if Darcy has grown much since I last saw her?

Adrian said he was an orphan with an older half brother, Jared. Jared apparently knew their mother, but Adrian never did. He and his brother were eight years apart and as different as 'the north and the south'.

Adam was boy genius who was sent to expensive smart school since he took an IQ test when he was ten. But he went home every opportunity he could. He lived in Michigan originally or somewhere around there.

Chris, well, Chris was Chris. He didn't mention anything about his family, and I never finished reading the files I was given oh so long ago. I was too afraid another nasty secret would raise its nasty head and bite me in the behind again.

"-sacrifices are great, and for some of you, it will even be greater." Professor was giving us the you-better-be-paying-attention glare. I think it was mostly for me, but I think I was being conceited. He glared harder at me, so okay maybe I _wasn't_ being conceited.. "The things you endure now will ensure a better tomorrow for those who follow."

"That's debatable," Adam replied. My eyes grew in size, I couldn't believe he would somewhat disagree with the Professor. _No one _disagreed with the Professor!

"Perhaps, but now is not the time." The glare shifted from me to Adam, and then to someone else. "The important thing is to enjoy the day you have now, live and laugh with friends and family. The family you have here, in the mansion and the so-called cousins around the world who also train and have trained to wear the 'X'."

"Are we just going to listen to you preach or is something important going to happen today?" Chris snapped, and I thought D-M broke his arm she slapped him so hard. "Would you _stop_ that!"

"Stop being stupid and I might."

"It's easier to ask him to stop breathing," Adrian said half-heartedly. Chris called him a jock and stuck his nose up in the air.

"No, my 'preaching' was merely to let you know that you are never in this alone. To celebrate this fact, the Danger Room session for today has been cancelled."

Praise! Praise!

"Instead, we are dedicating this weekend to a family reunion gathering. You will meet those who have gone before you, and fight now in the places you will be tomorrow."

I hoped he wasn't being literal.

"You're excused."

I was thrilled about that! I quickly made a dash to the door and up to my room to put decent clothing on. After I had changed another thought hit me upside the head (it's the only way I'd pay attention to them).

I wore this uniform for no-good-flipping reason?

* * *

When he said 'all those' he meant _all_ those. There must have been about thirty or forty people there and some had to cancel due to missions or other engagements. Good grief. Where were all these people going to sleep? I was going to try to run them down as D-M ran them to me.

"Okay, stick with me, Sam is over talking to his old team, 'X-Force' but for the most part they've been replaced by someone-else." There was a Tabitha, a Julio (with a 'J' not an 'H' he's Mexican, or so I was preached), Roberto (just what this place needed, _another_ Bobby to deal with), and a Theresa. My head was swimming, but then she moved on.

Oh, joy.

With Gambit and Rogue stood this guy with a metal arm and leg, named Forge. There was a green haired chick named, Lorna (how D-M knew all this I wasn't sure, I think she's partly telepathic or something). And then there were _so_ many others that all their names blended into the next, so I gave up.

I felt like a weed among the roses. They were all so—pretty, even the guys (heck, _mostly_ the guys).

"Kookie!" I turned around and there was Adrian with a sour puss look on his face. "You see that guy that looks like he's sorta glowing?"

Which one? I think all of them had a glow around them. Man, I was going to have to go to a plastic surgeon or something to ever be official. Well, except Mr. Logan, he's got the short end of the stick…that was _not_ a joke about his height. At least I didn't mean for it to be.

But I saw some brown hair guy with a nasty look on his face, arms crossed, and glaring at his feet. "Yeah?"

"That's my brother. He's a bundle of joy."

Actually he looked like he got a carrot stuck up his behind, like this guy named Dell I used to know. Sheesh, Mr. Pity Party and Don't-Judge-me, a.k.a. all around _jerk_. Not like Bobby-Pervert, this guy was a jerk-jerk not a joking jerk that thinks he's funny.

"That's ….nice?" What the heck was I supposed to say?

A few minutes later I had wandered around to the pool, where the supermodels were splashing and playing. Man, if I actually cared how I looked most of the time, I think I would try to go anorexic or something. But I was far from a girl-girl, okay, so my 'buddy' was crawling into my thoughts a lot more than was healthy, but he should never had asked for that second dance!

Daisy was missing so she wasn't poking me with questions, and everyone had pretty much left (they were trying to beat the traffic) so there shouldn't be any funny remarks come Monday.

At least I hoped not.

"Hey! You!" I turned around, I didn't usually answer to 'hey, you' but logic handed to me that it was probably me since everyone else knew everyone else's name. I saw a younger blonde girl come running up to me, and as bad as a thought this was, in the tiny bikini she was wearing I was hoping she didn't bounce out—if you know what I mean. "You're Kerry aren't you?"

"Uh-huh." Man, what'd they do? Hand out pamphlets with our names and pictures on it or something?

"I'm Paige Guthrie, Sam's little sister." _Whoa_, and Sam had _more_ siblings? I had heard of that country charm but, I hoped he had more brothers who would come up here. "I'm goin' to be the one instructing you on the uhm, 'skin' problem you have?"

I couldn't help myself, "You mean the problem were it falls off every so often?"

"Yeah, exactly." Oh-kay, sarcasm was apparently wasted on this girl.

She talked for a while more, and then ran off when Mr. Warren came out. Actually she started to parade around the pool, hmmm; the mind was led to ponder on such a mystery.

* * *

"Over here!"

Oh, _that_ helped. "Where is _here_? All I see are clouds!" Not to mention the guy yelling at me to throw the football was blue and white, and guess what, that's the same color as the sky where we (the fliers) were playing 'Air football'. Why? In Sam's words 'just because we're special'.

"Throw it to your left." And I did, Mr. Warren (who wasn't there a moment ago) flew up and caught the thing just two seconds before a bright flash of light zoomed out from behind a cloud and 'tackled' him down and quick. I could only guess it was Sam.

Just so you are not confused, those of us playing were as followed, on the 'Windy' side (Bobby-Jerk named that group, even though he wasn't playing) was Miss Munroe, Sam, Mrs. Jean, Monet (_ick_) and some guy that looked like Miss Rogue's son because of a white streak he had going through his hair named Nate. Then there were the 'hot tempers' Miss Rogue, Mr. Angel, me, Theresa, Miss Lorna and some _other_ person who was new to me (but really, who wasn't today?) Mr. Jean-Paul I think was his name.

"You're goin' down, Sammy!" Miss Rogue then took the liberty of chasing the streak around the sky.

It was fun, I kept dropping the ball, but it wasn't a fumble (unless it actually _had_ touched the ground, which, like, never happened). But the best part of the 'air football' was that I got to 'tackle' Monet. Apparently she misjudged me and my speed and I was able to sack her good. It wasn't long before she threw me off, but the victory was sweet, despite how short it was.

Now, Mr. Jean-Paul was kinda freaky to me. White hair and an accent like Adrian's but thicker. And he kept _staring_ at Mr. Angel. I don't mean like half-way glance, I was talking about _staring_ at this guy.

I guessed Mr. Warren was right, he's just 'too good looking for too many people to satisfy' too bad that meant men as well.

* * *

"_Are you trying to burn the mansion down_?" Came an angry scream, and then a cursing _Scott_ and some other guy who was trying to put the edge of his shirt out.

"How much juice didja give it there, genius?"

"I never knew Scott was such a pyro."

"I thought you were supposed to cook _with_ the charcoal not _cook_ the charcoal."

"Those _used_ to be beef patties."

"One more joke, and I'm going to let you eat Gambit's food for dinner."

Everyone went quite.

"It's not bad! You all wimps!" Mr. Remy protested, which turned all the joking tables onto him instead of Mr. _Scott_.

I was sitting with my group, and the quiet and brooding Jared Corbo. Daisy took this opportunity to try with another guy, the girl was going to get a bad reputation if she kept chasing everything that was male and had muscles.

"So if your force field doesn't permit you to touch anything, then how do you cut your hair?" And other various questions that the man answered by rolling his eyes and giving a smart aleck answer. D-M completely ignored the sarcasm, and kept pestering him for more information.

Adam, who had disappeared for an hour or so, came back with a sad look on his face, but then perked up when another brainiac started to talk to him about some big long formula with a bunch of numbers and letters…yawn city.

It was half or so hour later when this chick, who I sort of remembered from when I was picked up at Acola and she was the one all in white then and now, appeared. I was talking with Adrian, until he got and left when his brother basically _told_ him that Adrian _had_ to show his room to his brother. So off they went, and with them, Daisy-Mae (never shutting up). This left lots of seats available for the lady of white to sit down and stare at me.

Where was Chris? The ever reclusive boy had slid under a shaded area and threw things at either me or D-M every so often for fun. Someone had a bee up his behind (more like a hive) but even more than usual. I guessed the thong he was probably wearing was cutting into him pretty hard.

"You don't remember me," the icy voice rang bells. "I was there when we picked you up from that back water place you were living."

She was off my Christmas list.

I didn't answer her on the outside just looked at her with one eyebrow raised like I had seen so many people do at this place. I was turning into one of them…._ahhhh_!

"I'm Emma Frost." She gave me some kind of smirky smile that I think was supposed to make me smile back, but it made me want to grab a coat instead.

"Uh, I-I-I'm Ker-"

"Kerry D'mon, I know, or would you rather Kookie?"

Did these people put out newsletters or something?

"Don't worry about it, I'm a telepath." No, you see telling me that was only going to make me worry about it. Miss Frost (Emma didn't fit as well as _Frost_ did for this woman), flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and quite obviously gave me the one over. If a female did that to me, I wanted to get up and leave, call it the creeps or just thinking that they were something they may or may not be. "You've lost weight, and gained more muscle tone, and yet, I was still expecting more."

Huh?

* * *

"Hey there," I turned around from where I had been walking by the lake. It was _huge_, I'd never been to the lake, and it was too close to Cookie Nazi headquarters. "Saw you leave, anything wrong?"

I sighed and shook my head, "No, and since when did you keep tabs on me? And what happened to all the anger I thought you had toward me?"

"I -danced it out of me I guess you could say." And here comes my blush, and his smile. "She didn't say anything to upset you did she?"

_She,_ I guessed, he was referring to was the Frost Queen. After her little comment she got up to leave, but I beat her to it. I flew the rest of the way when I remembered that I could (but flapped away far enough away to not ruin anyone's hairdo).

"How could you guess?"

"_Ooh_, sarcasm, oh, this is going to be fun." He shot back, joining me where I had plopped down on the beach under some trees. These wings got hot fast.

"You're too optimistic."

"You're getting faster." He gave me _that _smile at full watt, and I couldn't help but smile back. "So, what did she say?"

I chewed over my options, and decided to look _away_ from him, because if he shot me that smile again, I'd tell him what she said word for word, "Who said she said anything to me at all?"

He gave me this classic yeah-right noise, "Then why'd you come out here? You're supposed to be 'mingling'."

Thinking about it, "Maybe I wanted to get away from people."

"Huh, right." He paused, and then snapped his fingers, "I got it!"

"Is it contagious?"

"Oh ha-ha." He rolled his eyes. "Now shut-up and listen to me." Oh that's going to get me to listen. "I know why you came out here. And you are very tricky."

"I am?"

"Yeah, imagine coming out all this way, in hopes that yours truly would follow you and have a personal and private interlude with you."

I stared at him in shock for a moment, and then burst out in laughter. "Somebody needs to take a pin to that ego of yours, boy!"

"_Boy_?" I continued to laugh it up, until he did something again. When I had turned my head away from him, apparently he leaned closer (like right next to my ear), "Dancing with a pretty girl twice will inflate any man's ego."

Major, _major_ blushing. I turned to look at him, my mouth hanging open like a dead fish's. I couldn't even process what he just said, and I was kind of thankful for the next line.

"There you two are!" It was Mr. Kurt. "I—hope I'm not interrupting anything." Mr. Kurt was now smirking and raising an eyebrow (I told you it was popular around this place!).

"Nothing important," _he _said, and got up quickly.

"Right. I came to get you two because Scott wants us in uniform and ready for group pictures and such. Then you two can get back to whatever it was you were about to, or _weren't_ about to do." Then he 'bamfed' out of our sight.

"Need a hand?" he stuck out his hand to help me up.

It wasn't a hand I needed; it was a functioning mind after his little compliment a few breaths ago.

* * *

Great. Now they have photogenic _proof_ I looked like a cow in that uniform. Several pictures in fact. One of the entire population of mutants (there were _so_ many), and then one with just the team I was a part of and Saturday (nix the pictures) was fun. Actually, it was the most fun I had had in a while, especially since coming here.

"_Hey_!" was for horses, "Kookie, come here for a moment."

Got to love Bobby-Pervert's communication system. I was walking away from the study at the end of the hall (cleaning it actually, that's where most of the guests got stuck, and they left it a mess. Me and Mr. Remy switched clean up duty for monitor duty) and had to walk right past his door.

"Yes, Mr. Drake?"

"Someone's in a bad mood." He teased, then started in the Kerry impersonating voice and flipped the imaginary hair again, "But, like, I guess that's because _Kenney_ hasn't called-Te-he."

"Don't you have a puppy to torture?"

"Only you. Here's your test from _all_ those weeks ago." And then a paper flew at me. It was wrinkled all over, and had a huge crease down the middle. My 'teacher' must not have really cared about how he treated the students he _lived_ with papers.

I looked at the grade, I saw red. Literally. "I _failed_?" Who couldn't help but scream once they saw something like _that_ blaring at them. A big fat '_F_' with several frowny faces around it. "Is _this_ why you lost my test? Did I fail because I punched you?"

"Technically you punched the chair," Bobby-_the-majorly-huge-jerk-of-a-teacher_ looked at me with a level stare, "And no, I lost the paper to annoy you, and you failed because you got _most_ of the problems wrong."

Without anything better or more intelligent to say, I burst out with the only thing I could think of _to_ say, "You suck!"

"I'm not the one with the 'F' on my paper, Kookie."

No, you were the one with my shoe stuck up your rear pretty soon! I couldn't believe I _failed_ his test!

No mercy! No heart!

And _no_ way was I going to fail another test!


	33. Legal & Leadership

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 033_**

* * *

_Scott_ looked at me, and I couldn't even open my eyes to look at him. I was _so_ tired. D-M wanted a heart-to-heart and I gave it to her. She was confused about all the boys in her life. It took her forever to go through the list of why everyone was just 'so perfect' for her, and why they were not. The list went on and on.

"Are you with us today Kerry?"

"No, I'm dead," I uttered, slumping over on the weight machine trying to get more comfortable.

"That's good because the dead can't get in trouble for taking nearly a month to read the reports and records on her team. The dead can't get told that if she doesn't step it up, I'll make the training exercises even earlier and more strenuous." _Scott_ sure had a mean way of getting his point across.

"The living thanks you, the dead doesn't care."

I couldn't tell you if he snorted or laughed, either way, _Scott_ told me to finish reading the files before long, and to get back to bed.

The last half of his order I followed with no problem.

* * *

"You look sick."

"Why thank you for your careful observation, I was wondering why I felt like crap," Chris barked out.

"Someone crawled out of the wrong side of the cave this morning," D-M chirped out, turning her nose up in the air. I decided to stay out of this conversation; all the others were just as nasty as I was when we were told we had a Wednesday morning practice session in the Danger Room. It was bad enough that I had to wear _it_ on a Saturday, but must I also strut around in it in the middle of the week?

"Settle down kids," came the god voice. "Adam, remember what we discussed earlier this week."

Adam nodded, "Yes, sir."

I guessed whatever they discussed had something to do with why he was so sad on Saturday.

"Countdown, in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

What was this? A movie studio? But who had time to think about that, because before I knew it, the steel and metal melted into a jungle, complete with river and, of course, cannons. I think they like the cannons a might too much.

My com-link crackled, "I feel like I got stuck in the Discovery Channel," Chris muttered.

"Then where's the guy in khaki shorts who likes to ride crocodiles?" D-M shot back, then Adam informed them the links weren't meant for personal chit-chat.

"Adrian, where are you?"

"In the middle of the river with the _snaked_. Really _big_ snakes. Oh, and a crocodile." Then to prove it, I heard him scream and a lot of splashing. Guess he was trying to kill those snakes. So far the cannons didn't shoot, they just hung overhead like a bad reminder that they _could_ take us out at anytime they wanted to.

"Are you sure it isn't an alligator, there is a difference you know." They started into the discussion about differences of crocs and gators before Professor's 'god' voice told them to get back to the mission.

I wonder what it was. Were we supposed to save Tarzan or something?

"Chris?"

"In the trees, where the hell else didja expect?" Chris was in a bad mood, even for Chris. And that was saying a lot.

"Daisy?"

"Are leaves supposed to growl at you?" She paused, "I'm by a big cave. And I can see Jean! Hi Jean

The goddess voice cut in, "Daisy-Mae, you're supposed to treat this like a real life situation, not a Girl Scout jamboree."

Oh ha ha! Poor Daisy!

"Kerry, what about you?"

"Uh," I started out, and then decided to fly up to see where I was. "I'm -_AH_!" The cannons fired before I knew it. With a solid _thud_, I hit the jungle floor, and wheezed out "-grounded." Ouch, my shoulder hurt (probably because I landed on it) and I could feel my skin just begging to go 'black'.

"Okay, so we are stuck below the tree line?" Adam questioned. "And our mission is to find one another, but we each have a different obstacle."

"Where are we supposed to meet up?" It seemed like a logical, well thought out question, and amazingly enough it came from me!

"Uh, I don't know. It doesn't say."

"Guys, there's a cat looking at me. A really_,_ _really_ big and hungry looking kitty!" I guessed D-M found out what was living in that cave.

* * *

"I can't believe you didn't back me up in there!" I screamed, throwing the towel I had been using to stop the minor blood scratch I got from the fight in the Danger Room.

Genius told Chris to help Adrian with the alligator problem, but there was one problem that Mr. Science didn't think about. Water was a lovely conductor of electricity (Chris' power) and Flex's power deals with metal so _zap!_ We all ended up in the med. lab after the little episode. And then all of senior staff, who wanted to, came and chewed on us (me and Adam) about bad command decisions.

I spoke the truth and said it was not my fault, since I did not have any say so in the choice Adam made, and even he reluctantly agreed with me. But the Professor, _Scott,_ and Miss Oreo, said the leaders were always working together, and that if one makes a bad choice, and the other does not try to stop it, then it was both their fault.

I looked to _him_ for help, _he_ only looked away. And after I left the med. Lab (I was last because my wings were slightly crispy), _he_ was waiting on me.

"What was I supposed to do? Tell the Prof he was wrong?"

"No! Just say that I was right." I turned around; we were in the middle of the men's wing hall. "There is a difference."

"I've been here long enough to know that I don't want to get Xavier in a bad mood," _he_ contended. I had only seen him angry once and now again. His temper, I had discovered, was pretty hard to light, but once it was, oh my goodness did it burn bright!

"So you'll let him chew me out for something I didn't _do_, instead of trying to take a chance and save me?"

"I don't think _you_ were the one who got fried. So you had to hear him complain about what a lousy job you did. Big deal! Live. With. It."

"Grow a spine!" I shouted at him, marching to my room.

"Grow a _heart_."

Ouch. Big, painful _ouch_.

* * *

"Sit down, Kerry; we'd like to talk to you."

Great, just what I needed a face-to-face confrontation with the two men who were wrecking my life as it was. Okay, so they weren't really, the only one who was playing with my head was my 'buddy' who I still refused to talk to since our fight two days ago.

He was so immature.

"As you are aware, there have been-issues with the leadership in your team." Professor said, I was two syllables away from jumping down his throat and telling him it was _not_ my fault. But he must have read my mind, and held up a hand to keep my big mouth shut a while longer. "Please, let me finish. It has come to our attention from some of your team, and some of the X-Men that the recent accusations were not correct."

Well _duh_.

I was not a telepath, I couldn't read or control Adam's mind (though it probably would help me in the science and math parts of my school).

"The higher class believes that a change in leadership must be made," _Scott_ continued, leaning up against the desk in front of me. I could still see the Professor, but now _Scott_ was _right_ in my way.

'Change in leadership'? Did this mean I flunked and they were making D-M leader? Save us all if that ever happened.

The Professor smiled at me, in what I was going to guess, amusement (either that or he just passed gas or something, you know, like when baby smiles for that reason?).

"Am I fired?"

_Scott_ even smiled, shook his head, and started, "You aren't. Your leader was."

"Adam was _fired_?" And I wasn't? Adam loved being leader! Of course whenever (as rare as it was) we beat the trouble that the 'god' people in the control room threw out at us, he'd want to study the parts and see what made it run (he got zapped a lot).

"More like, demoted." A nice way for saying the same thing action. "And as it stands, we do not think any of the other three are ready for either position of leader or co-leader."

So what? Are we a democracy now?

"It is a natural allowance for the co-leader to step up when the leader role is opened up."

Oh crap. If that wasn't the _biggest_ whooping hint to ever be spoken, I don't know what was.

* * *

Chris shoved another candy bar in his mouth, and made a noise about how good it was. Jerk. I couldn't have candy, but I did discover that later in the year in Home Ec, we would be making cookies. _Yum_! And there wasn't a thing Summers could do about it!

"If you ignore your teeth, they'll go away," D-M chided walking into the men's wing study. There was a meeting going on in our group to announce the new leader and we all needed to choose code-names. Oh joy.

"Does that trick work with you as well?" Chris grumbled throwing his wrappers at her. Adrian rolled his eyes. Adam put down the book he was reading, and started the meeting. The first thing he said that all but Adrian had to choose a codename, this brought about a headache of its own.

"What about if Adrian changes his name to 'invisible man'?"

"What's that got to do with my powers?" Adrian raised an eyebrow, much like everyone else did.

"Because nobody's going to see your chicken yellow butt after the fight starts."

"Oh har har," was D-M's reply, rolling her eyes. "What about 'fried noodle boy' for you?"

"Go away, hayseed," Chris snapped, nice to know his negative attention was diverted away from me and Adrian for once.

"I'm keeping my name," Adrian announced. "I think it's pretty neat."

"Sounds like an exercise machine-_Flex_! Works great for your abs and buttocks!" D-M sure was noisy today, she said what I was thinking but still, she was noisy.

"Chris? Do you know what you want to be called?" Adam was really trying to keep this going, but it seemed like the rest of us didn't want to leave. If that made any sense I don't know. It's just that we didn't have anything better to do.

"Master? Lord?"

_Everyone_ gave him the same in-your-_dreams_ look.

"Loser? Stink bomb?" D-M chirped in.

"Refuses-to-use-soap-_boy_?" I asked, smirking at him as he glared at me.

"I got your codename," Chris leaned back in his chair until it was balancing on the two back legs, crossing his arms behind his head. "Scott's Mini-Me."

And you think for a moment I missed the opportunity to get revenge? Oh heck no. No silent revenge this time. I kicked his chair, and…_crash_! Down went the chair. Down went Chris.

Up came a cussing Chris, and a slightly wobbly chair. "Grow up." He growled, thumping down hard in the chair.

"When you bathe."

He did take showers, but everyone picked on him because of all the grease he kept in his hair.

"Okay, we're not getting anywhere with this. So whenever you all decide on your codenames, tell Kookie so she can type them in the system." Adam said, and then started to leave.

"Why not you, lizard lad?" Adrian questioned, "Aren't you suppose to be the one doing all that stuff?"

"Kerry's the leader now, not me." I couldn't tell if he sounded depressed or like a great stress had been lifted.

"Aw man, does that mean I have to pretend to get along with you know?"

It was my turn to give a nasty look, but quickly replaced it with a too sugary sweet smile, "Only if you want to live, Sparky."

* * *

"Why me?"

She stopped watering her flowers to turn around and give me her full attention, "I'm no leader, and I'm not even the cheerleader type. I'm more of the type who sits in the audience doing something completely different."

I was told I had a few days to decide on whether or not I really wanted to take the position offered to me, and if I had any questions or doubts to talk to Miss Munroe (actually they said Storm, and I still couldn't get her first name right). So later that night after the codename-yelling match, I went up to see her and became jealous of her _enormous_ room. Miss Oreo had the whole attic for her bedroom due to some psychiatric problem (she freaked when in tight spaces).

Miss Storm smiled, "No great leader ever thinks they deserve the job." She let her smile slip as her next question struck her, "That is only if you want the job."

I ran both my hands through me hair. No one ever asked my permission for messing around with my life. "Does it matter if I do or don't? I'd be stuck with it all the same."

"No, you wouldn't. A leader who thinks he is undeserving is far different from a leader who is doesn't wish to lead. Whether or not you want to be the field commander of your group is up to you in the end."

"Why was I picked anyway? I mean, Adam got along great with everyone. I don't. I don't know anything about fighting or anything at all about anything." I couldn't believe I was having a heart-to-heart with a woman I barely ever spoke too.

The 'weather witch' sat next to me, "You are able to do things. It is not what you are able to do now that makes us think of you as a possible good leader, but the things you are willing to learn. The major deciding factor in the election of your new position was not that you took so long to learn to fly, but all the reasons why you learned."

She got up and began to water her garden again from some little cloud which appeared out of nowhere, "Kerry, you above all the others, seem to be able to deal with the pressures that were presented to you with or without your consent. Even though you did have a rocky start after finding out about Chris' unique problem, you handled it well. To prove your unprejudiced new outlook on him, in the next Danger Room session, you were the one to save him when no one else would. That affected the team greatly, and now it is as if he merely had a cold."

Okay, so this was the only speech I'd ever listened to, so call me self-centered because I listened only because it was about me. I know, how vain can you get? It was about my life, and for once someone asked me about what I wanted. There was a strong resemblance between saying 'you _really_ should do this' but at least it wasn't a 'you _should_ do this' like Professor and _Scott_ like to do.

"Do you know, yet, what it is you want?"

What a loaded question.

A few months, heck weeks, ago I would have said what I wanted was out of here. But now, now I wasn't so sure that's what I needed to do. It could be I just got told I needed to grow a heart, which translated into 'get your head out of your behind and start caring about some others' and also _he_ was just really irritated with me. I couldn't blame him for it, but _dang it, he_ was confusing me. One moment he was _this_ way, and when eyes weren't looking, he was _that_ way…I was going to need a psychiatrist when all of this was done.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair for about the thousandth time that day. I was going to be as bald as Professor if I didn't stop. Me with no hair-_oy_. Mind let us not go down that road, eh?

"I don't know what I want," I confessed.

Miss Oreo smiled, and nodded her head, "An excellent answer, child."

"It is?"

"Of course, any action or opinion must be well thought out if it is to be for the best." So procrastinating in this case would be—good? "Things of this nature can never be rushed into. They take time, as I am sure Charles instructed you to take time to come up with your answer."

If you called a glare looking over steepled fingers an answer, to me it came off more as a warning.

"How did you decide who was going to be in charge of who?" Where'd that come from? I must remember to remind my mouth it must first check with brain before speaking, otherwise I was going to wallow in trouble until I was eighty-of course, if I stayed here, I might be dead by then. In fact I think it was a pretty safe bet, except for the Professor, I didn't see any old people strutting around this place.

"We are a very diplomatic household, and therefore, we voted on it."

Oh, that was scientific. A popular vote. Sheesh, I was thinking they pulled names from a hat or something.

* * *

"What about Blyt?"

I nearly fell out of the chair (thankfully it was bolted to the ground and I didn't) when big booming voice started to talk to me. My first response was going to be 'God?', but this time my mouth checked with my brain, and I looked to see it was only (ha-ha) Mr. Bishop. He also had monitor duty tonight. I was sitting in front of the screens with a list of possible code-names from the team. Chris had a superiority complex and listed several names like the ones he suggested earlier. D-M lived up to her girly-girl way and went as far as to suggest 'flower power'…I just scratched that out and kept going.

"Blyt?"

"Yes. Isn't that the name of the guardian angel?"

How in the world did he know about _that_? My mouth hung open again. _No_ one could have known about that!

"How do you know about him?" My mind raced, trying it's best to think of how this man could possibly have known about that old story. "I made him up!"

Mr. Bishop sat down and took out his usual clipboard to write down any odd happenings, which I had yet to see. "I know." For once he started the conversation, "Why did you make him up?"

He was actually curious about me? How weird. Strangely it made me less on edge but it was still weirder than anything. "I made him up because my little sister, Darcy, was scared of thunderstorms." Or when my parents fought. "And she'd always come into my room. I got annoyed with her, and made up stories to tell her about why she shouldn't be scared."

"Indeed." I was going to take that as a 'please continue'.

"Blyt was the scraggliest angel that there was. He was short and always messy. He was completely different from the tall, muscular, and handsome angels that everyone was used to. But no matter his size or his appearance, he was one of the most courageous." I started to remember Darcy, and then Mom, and then Daddy.

"And he was the only one with black wings, which were mostly unkept, and his feathers would occasionally float down to earth." Wow. "How do you know about him anyway?"

"I'm from the future, as you are well aware, and the Blyt stories are one of the good memories I have from that time. I, too, told my younger sister his stories to calm her down." He turned his head to look at me in the eyes as he spoke.

"But how did you find out about him? I-don't like, publish a book or anything?" I tried my best to give a smile that dripped with nice sarcasm (was there such a thing?).

"No, not by a book, but by word of mouth." Oh man, don't tell me I was going to be _that_ old and still kicking.

"Whose mouth?"

"Your grandchildren, actually, one of them, Shayna."

Oh. My. Goodness.

I was allowed to _breed_?

And who the heck did I breed _with_?

* * *

Come Saturday, we had our next Danger Room session. I was allowed a trial run; they said for my benefit, I think it was more for their own. Chris had a codename, one he finally agreed to that didn't give him any kind of power trip, Shockwav. I had no idea if the name was already taken by anyone besides the company that made all those downloadable games, but at least he didn't choose Napster. Anyway, Adam and Daisy-Mae were the only ones without names of any sort. I had gone with the one that Mr. Bishop suggested, I actually got to be the character I had created so long ago, and I was 'Blyt' on the field from then on, pretty neat huh?

On Monday though, I had to fend the overly-happy Kenney away, put up with boring lectures and Mr. Drakes' how-to-balance-a-checkbook-for-dummies' class. Every time he mentioned about how hard it was to fail a class, he looked directly at me. What a Jerk.

But as I was leaving Monday (Mr. _So_-Sorry-No-Sweets-Summers was picking us up to go get an official check up with a lady doctor, Dr. Cecilia?) this nameless guy in sunglass and a black suit ran up to me, shouting my name. Of course when someone calls you 'Miss Kerry Demon!' you are bound to look and glare.

"Sign here." He breathed out; apparently he wasn't used to running. I, like a true learned robot, did as he told me to and then got a long envelope shoved into my hands. "Thank you, Miss Demon."

"It's D_ee-moon_," I growled and uttered a 'welcome' (living with so many Southerners were starting to rub off on me) and traipsed to the vehicle.

Having completely forgotten about the envelope, it wasn't until I started to do my homework later that night when I saw it staring at me, and opened it.

It was in a different language as far as I was concerned. There wasn't a single word printed on the papers, except my name, that was less than three syllables. It also had my mom's name typed in a few blanks; this needed to be translated into the idiot's version for me to know what to do with it. So a-hunting I did go for the big blue, fuzzy, PhD totting mutant known as Dr. Hank.

I found him and several others (Mr. Warren, Mr. Remy a/k/a looks good without a shirt, Bobby-Jerk,_ Scott_, and the new guy Mr. Jean-Paul) watching some sports thing on the TV. I waited for a commercial break, I had been with my Daddy enough to know _never_ stand between a man and his sports' show.

So when the commercial finally did come on, Bobby-Pervert announced that I was there, and apparently unwanted.

"There is a _female_ on the premises. She must not know the rules."

"As if she follows dem anyway." That did _not_ help Mr. Remy, but thank you for the smile.

"Dr. Hank, you're smart right?" Not the most intelligent question to ask, but it was late, and I had been pricked and poked all afternoon by Dr. Reyes (nice nice lady, she gave this whinny teenager a lollipop as well as little kids).

He laughed, as did Mr. Warren before drinking some more—whatever he was drinking. "I do know a thing or two." Dr. Hank replied with a toothy smile.

"Great, then could you translate this into words of one syllable or less?" I handed him the paper, and as expected the guy on either side of him read over his shoulder.

"Oh my stars…" Uh, that didn't sound too good.

"Sounds like a witch," Mr. Jean-Paul commented, so that was _two_ strikes against the letter.

"You're being emancipated, Kookie." Dr. Hank looked _real_ serious now, as did Mr. Warren and the others. I started to fidget.

"And that's a _bad_ thing?"

"It means your mother's disowning you—_legally_." Dis-_own_-ing? Three things fell at that moment.

My heart, which shattered.

My stomach, which shriveled into the size of a pea.

And my knees, which hit the floor.

So that's why she wanted to know where I was, to get rid of me—permanently.


	34. All you want!

_**Lucky Me **_

_**Chapter 034**_

* * *

I lay face first in my pillow.

I didn't know if I was asleep at any point, but I either went to sleep or into a coma. Maybe I was dehydrated from crying so much. After Angel, Dr. Hank, and all the others calmly tried to explain what emancipation was to me, I just nodded, got assisted to my room, and then crashed. I crashed into tears on my pillow.

I knew Mom wasn't happy with me, but to get rid of me legally and forever? I thought she loved me. Sure she tried to have me killed, but there was no hard evidence to back it up. It could have been a coincidence.

Well, it could have been!

As upset as I was, I didn't think it was affecting me as I thought it should have been. Perhaps I knew it would boil down to something like this. Honestly I thought Mom, _Heather,_ I guess was what I needed to start calling her pretty soon, would just forget about me, and in the highest hopes, forgive my genetic problem. I guess not.

"Are you alive?" _he_ came; I hadn't even heard _him_ open the door.

"Yes," I answered lifting my head up for a moment before dropping it down again. For a person who didn't have a heart, why did it break? Maybe it would have been better if I _was_ heartless and cold; I could laugh about this situation then. "I change my answer, _no_."

"I'm—sorry about your problem."

"Yeah, well." I turned to look at him when I felt my bed go down. He sat on the edge, holding Stitch, and pulling on his ears.

"I can't believe you're not strangling this guy to death." He looked over at me, and gave a half-hearted smile. "Isn't he usually your sponge?"

"You're so compassionate."

_He_ shrugged, "Yeah I guess I am." And he's just _so_ un-egotistical! (Ha!)

I rolled my eyes, and thought up something to say, "Leave me alone to die."

He laughed at the remark and bapped me on the head with Stitch. "No can do. It wouldn't be ethical. Besides, you said you were dead and you can't die twice."

"I've read some of the files, if you live here, you _can_ die twice." He snorted at that remark and then leaned down on top of my legs. Correction, he then began to crush my legs, for such a skinny guy, he sure was heavy!

"Fair enough." He looked at me (over the wings) and got that eerie serious air about him. "Is there anything that I can do?"

Saying 'leave' was going to be my first response, but I didn't need to more evidence about being the heartless creature he thought I was. _He_ was actually trying to be nice, and in a sneaky way I asked Miss Oreo who said what on both my team and on hers. _He_ apparently was completely for promoting me to leader, and was one of the ones who stood up to the Professor after wrongly accusing me of being to blame for Adam's mistake. I was think that was after I told him to grow a backbone. So, I would try my best to grow a heart-at least toward him. Only in a _friendly_ way. Honestly!

I thought about the offer, "Sugar."

"Sugar?" He questioned lifting himself off my legs. "I didn't know you thought of me like that." Followed by his oh-so-make-my-brain-putty smile.

But I had enough sense left to pick up Stitch, and chunk it at him. "I want cookies, cakes, candy _anything_ with chocolate. Anything that _Scott_ doesn't want me to have. The big bird wants to pig out."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything more.

* * *

"Hey _Ker-ree_!"

Oh ,am, make it go away, please. But apparently it wasn't going to happen, and less than a second later Mr. Yohalm was in his 'cool' guy look by leaning on my locker and crossing his arms. It had been about two weeks since the dance, and he had forgotten all about me (oh watch me cry a river) and now he suddenly remembered me?

"How can I possibly make you leave?" I asked with the biggest, sweetest (_fakest_) smile I could muster across my face.

"By leaving with me." He stood up straight and tried to give me a smile that was supposed to be charming (but after seeing someone else's charming smile, Kenney's smile was nothing compared to it). "But since you won't be up for that anytime soon, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out with me this Friday."

I thought about it, still not used to actually being asked out (like ever) but he did, and remembering what a creep he was, I turned my nose up in the air (like I see Monet do so much) and simply said, "I'm washing my hair."

"Oh, a classic! I like it." He tried to put his arm around my shoulders but found something blocking him (my wings under the protection of my image inducer), and knowing this, I smiled. "You haven't forgotten that I know a _little_ something about your buddy, Adrian, have you?"

Oh, crap. I _had_ forgotten. And I didn't want it getting around that Adrian was a mutant. It would put us all in jeopardy. I growled in irritation. What was the big deal about being a mutant?

My own mother was getting rid of me like some bad cough and the emancipation was her anti-biotic or something. So _what_ if Adrian was a mutant? So what if I was? It didn't mark me as anyone other than myself, did it? _No_! In the perfect world I would be in contact with my Mom, and little sister. In a perfect world I would still have my Daddy to run to whenever things went wrong, but I didn't because I was a mutant.

My dad wasn't dead because I was a mutant, but because they existed. If I couldn't change my mom's mind, then I was sure as _heck_ going to try to change this little pea-brained (_smashed_ pea) bigot about it. It was no crime, no secret, and no way to blackmail people to get what you wanted!

"So what does it matter what he is?" I asked, turning around on my heels and glaring at him. "What if I'm the same freakin' way, who are you going to blackmail then? Hmm? What are you going to do if I tell the whole freakin' school what he is? You won't have a right to use it against him or me. You are the _last_ person I would _ever_ choose to go out with if I wasn't _so_ concerned about my friend. You are just a self-centered, got-your-head-stuck-up-your-behind _jerk. _You can scream it from the top of the school for all I care, and all I have to do is deny it. And what the _heck_ are you doing looking around the locker room anyway!"

Kenney's eyes were _huge_. He had to blink a couple of times before they went back to a normal size. I guess he didn't realize that I had a temper, and Adrian had tried to warn him repeatedly to leave me alone. Well he should have taken the warnings!

"First off, I wasn't looking around the locker room, it was the fact that _he_ was. I knew he was because I caught him doing so when I was walking in to change. _And_ if you are anything like him, then babe," that was what you call a _pig_ not a girl! "If you are anything like him, then I don't want to have anything to do with you." K'Yo' paused and gave me a devious smile. "Unless you invite me to watch you and yours have some fun one night."

I glared at him, "What are you talking about?" I rolled my eyes, "What exactly do you think Adrian is, anyway?"

K'Yo gave me this totally 'duh' look (the one I was usually giving him) and simply said, "Gay."

* * *

It took a while for me to be able to move after Kenney's announcement over what he _thought_ he had to hang over my head about Adrian. After I was able to move, and made my way to class, I busted out laughing which caught Mr. Drake's attention (actually I think it made him paranoid since I started to laugh only after he turned his back to the class). His revenge? Calling me to the blackboard to answer a question (which I got wrong, money and I didn't stay acquainted long enough to know how it worked) and while he sat at his desk like a Professor wanna-be, Bobby-jerk cracked jokes that only he and I heard.

At the end, while my back was still to the class, I stuck out my tongue. I was half tempted to punch him with one of my wings, but decided against it. How was I going to explain it? Ghosts?

"_Wrong,_ Miss Kookie. Please take your seat, Nikki, can you tell me what she did wrong?"

_Nikki_? He picked _Nikki_? First Adrian and now _Bobby_? What was she, my replacement? (Geez, didn't I sound vain!) I couldn't stand the girl. She was stuck up, rude, and full of herself. D-M defended her a lot whenever the group was together talking about junk, but I still thought she was as pleasant as French kissing an Oklahoman hilly-billy named Bubba with only one green tooth that had been chewing snuff.

After class, I (of course) was called to the front of the class. It wasn't 'going to be for long' so I waited for him to start. After cleaning up his desk, erasing the blackboard, and straightening up his bookshelf, Bobby-jerk finally remembered I was there.

"Oh, Kookie, how nice of you to stay."

I glared at him, "I was _asked_ to, if you remember." Glancing at the clock, "I also have to get to class, I'm already late."

"You have study hall this hour, and are permitted to be in a classroom as long as it is approved by a teacher."

I bite at math, but this I could put together, "And you approved me to stay in here, right?"

"Right." Bobby-Jerk gave me that ha-ha-I-got-the-last-laugh smile, and I, in return, rolled my eyes. "As much as I love your optimistic and charismatic company, I did have you stay for a reason."

"And that would be?"

"Your sad excuse for a grade."

Oh, ouch. Couldn't he even have tried to candy coat that? With all that was happening (and going to happen) in my life, you'd think he'd have a bit more of a sympathy to show a distressed mutant!

"I have already talked to Adrian and Chris, they too, when able, will be here to get extra tutoring sessions here, and at the mansion right after school." Again that slap-this-off-my-face-please grin.

"You have to be joking!" There was no _way_ I was going to spend more time on this stupid subject than I needed to! Scratch that-wanted to.

"Not on this, so get your book out, and pull up a chair."

I grumbled the whole time I got ready, and sat down in a huff. Who really needed to balance a checkbook? My Dad always did it for my family (the ones disowning me), and after he died, I started to carry cash. I tried this approach, Bobby-pervert said that I had a debit card for my allowance, and I would need to balance it once in a while. He also tacked on that the next time I stuck out my tongue at him, to make good use of it or don't lead his mind down that road.

I ended up blood red from embarrassment the rest of the hour.

* * *

"Another dance!" D-M bounced around us like a sugar-injected flea. "And it's _Homecoming_! Fancy dresses! Big hair!"

"Easy girls," Chris added, dropping his backpack in the hall closet (after about the third time Mr. Logan tripped on it, he threatened to tear the thing and its owner into indistinguishable parts, Chris got the message). Daisy-Mae hit him over the head with her purse.

"Stupid guys," she pointed out, grabbed me by the arm, and letting Chris' threats and nasty comments go unnoticed, "So are you going with Kenney again?"

"Not in this lifetime." I cracked a grin thinking about the assumptions that K'Yo' had made regarding Adrian. Before I could bee-line it to my room, Bobby-jerk announced the study session. As I dragged my feet to the appointed study room, I passed Adam who stopped me for one thing or another. It was about his codename, and whether or not I had approved them yet, and gotten the senior staff to approve as well.

Whatever he was saying, I just stared at him in almost awe.

"Wow."

That shut him up, "Huh? What?"

"Your eyes, I've never seen you without your glasses." It was true, Adam's eyes were _awesome_. They almost glow red, and like the reptilian form he morphed into, they had ebony slits through them.

"Oh, uh," he groped his shirt to find his sunglasses, but before I could think of what to say or what to do, my hand (on its own accord) reached out and stopped his. Adam looked like he was ready to faint.

"Don't, I think their—wicked." I added a smile (did that constitute as 'flirting'?). Adam gave me a lopsided smile in return.

"Wicked, huh? Where'd you learn a word like that?" Adam's smile broadened.

"Haven't the faintest." That's when _he_ walked into the hall. I knew _he_ had been pulled aside by one of the higher ups and seeing Adam (with my hand on his hand, which was on his chest, smiling) and me smiling dumbly at one another must have not sat right with him.

"Don't forget, the study session," _he_ reminded me, glaring at Adam as he went by.

Sheesh, what a jealous little person and there was _nothing_ to be jealous over.

* * *

"Try to relax," Mrs. Jean said to me two days later.

"I am relaxed." It was a lie, and for those concerned about it, don't _ever_ lie to a telepath, they'd just give you this yeah-right look. I was in a session before my session with Paige to learn about ripping skin from my skin (it was so disgusting, and watching her do it was no picnic either, ick).

"No, you are not. If you don't relax, this will hurt."

_Then don't do it_, which I only thought, and me being the _genius_ that I was known to be almost all the time, didn't think that she could read my little remarks in my mind, and gave me a don't-even-go-there glare. "Okay, I'll try to relax."

How did one relax their brain when it's about to be invaded? It's like trying to tell a woman to relax in the presence of a rapist, knowing what he's about to do. It's a violation, and I tried to point that out, and she said it would be beneficial. If I didn't like the first session, I didn't have to do anymore. But this was also supposed to help me with immunity to my thoughts from telepaths, and also to keep my thoughts quiet.

"Deep breaths." Why do they always say that?

But another expression from her, and Kookie shut up real quick and started to pretend to hyperventilate. I stopped, "Can I close my eyes?"

She raised that eyebrow (it's a trademark with them, I swear it!) and said it was fine. Well, I didn't know how this telepathy thing worked! So I went back to my breathing. But have you ever been told to clear your mind and suddenly start picturing the weirdest things? I watched _Beauty and the Beast _a day ago with D-M and now all I could see was Mr. Remy dancing around singing 'Be Our Guest'.

Mrs. Jean laughed; I guess that meant she was 'in' my mind. _Weird_.

Me for letting her be there, and for her actually _wanting_ to be here.

Before I could think another thought, I was not where I was a second ago. Instead I was in a field. A field with a lot of wind apparently.

/_Where the heck…?/_ I 'heard' myself ask, but to who? I didn't know, and I didn't see anyone. And _I_ was in a _dress_. I didn't _do_ dresses by choice, so for me to be _in_ one would be a major psychological hic-up on my personality.

_/This is your mind./ _Mrs. Jean appeared beside me in a flowy dress of her own.

_/Guess I'm an airhead then./ _ There was a lot of wind blowing around in that field.

_/No, this is what you wanted to picture, you control the environment in here, also the events that we see./_ Mrs. Jean clarified, as she bent down and started to pick some flowers. _/I noticed you don't see yourself with your wings./_

Well of _courser_ I looked. And sure enough, no big black feathery wings were sprouting out of my back. Very strange.

_/Why are we 'here'?/_

_/To help you work through some tough issues, to help build up your mental shields or just to pick flowers./_

I was more for the last two than the first one, but before I could say something like that, new voices distracted us both.

_"Push me! Push me!"_ It was a lighter voice, and one that sounded familiar. And just like that there was a tree, with a swing, and a little girl with black hair (_that's_ why the voice sounded familiar, it was _mine_, duh) and then someone who when I saw them, I nearly fainted (if I hadn't been a mental me)-my Daddy.

_"Yes ma'am! Coming right away!"_

/_Is that your father?/_ Mrs. Jean asked, which to me was a dumb question. I looked a lot like my dad, with the black hair and all, but he had sun brown skin (carpenter and all). _/Why did you think this up?/_

I shrugged, watching as more of the field melted away into a familiar house and yard. It was my Grandmother's yard (my mom's-mom) where my Dad pushed me on the swing and I (my 'little' self) was just as happy as could be.

"_Zach_!" Came an all too familiar voice, and then my mom poked her head of one of the windows. "Get her off that thing! It's old and disgusting and that's a brand new dress! Think once and a while would you?"

I watched as my dad sighed, and rolled his eyes (that must be where I got it from), but followed the woman's orders, taking me off the swing. The dress my 'mental' and 'little' self wore was identical. I could only watch as the man who I loved and missed for over two years danced around the yard with me on his trail. It wasn't until I saw this that I realized how _much_ I missed him.

That's when I decided I didn't want to remember this anymore. _/Make it stop./_ I begged, my mental voice broken, and my eyes threatening to cry in front of a woman I barely knew.

_/Just think of something different. Something good about the present day./_

_Big_ mistake. Because the first thing of comfort I pictured, was naturally, _him_. Mrs. Jean didn't think (I hoped) anything weird about having this guy in my thoughts. Who was he?

Stitch naturally (ha-ha, you thought I was going to mention the _other_ _him_, ha-ha).

_/Well, this is an improvement. Mind explaining the doll?/_

"My name Stitch."

Okay, talking doll. Creepy, _creeeepy_, _cree-pee_.

* * *

The next day at school (joy) I stood in the lunch line (because I had 'forgotten' my sack lunch, oh darn-please ignore my more than happy expression) and I saw something so interesting that equaled blackmail in my book.

"Thank you, Miss Reese, I'm sure I couldn't have lived without that string on my belt loop." Bobby-jerk jumped again as the Home Ec. teacher fussed around him pulling strings and doing other motherly things.

"It's just a pet peeve." She then fluttered her eyelashes (I kid you not), at him, and Bobby-Jerk seemed to get unnerved and tried to back away from the woman, only to bump into the post behind him. I wanted to laugh at him, but if I did that, I'd be stuck with going up to his blackboard and having him poke fun at me again.

"I would hate to have you—blemished," she added coyly. And I started to snicker at him, which seemed to be the distraction he was looking for.

"Miss D'mon, no cutting."

My jaw dropped, "I didn't cut!"

Miss Reese continued her attentions.

"In fact let me help direct you to the end of the line." And he nearly leapt to get to me, and away from the other teacher.

"Chicken heart," I whispered harshly as he ushered me (_wrongfully_) to the end of the very long line.

"When it comes to her, yeah. I'd rather take on a Danger Room session for a week then have that woman rubbing her hands all over my butt."

_Eeeewww_! _Gross _imagery of my teachers! _Eck_! _Bleeh_! I suddenly felt the need to bathe! _Gross_!

That's was almost as bad as imaging your _parents_…oh great, now I had _that _in my head. Now I was disgusted _and _depressed.

* * *

"So it is told that 14-60 days after the emancipation papers have been delivered, that the one to be disowned should appear in court for a hearing in front of a judge to decide on whether or not, emancipation is indeed in order or not."

Mr. Warren had agreed to pay for the very best lawyers (the ones who have the longest words and longest winded explanation of everything) to defend me against my mom. Not only (it seemed) was she trying to emancipate me, she was trying to get me taken from Xavier's and placed in the custody of the state. Triple ouch. Not only did she want to get rid of me, she wanted to make me as miserable as possible.

Just when I was actually getting 'happy' at that mutant high secondary school, too.

"And Mrs. D'mon has agreed to this?" Mr. Warren asked. Him, _Scott,_ and Mrs. Jean all tagged along with me. Mr. Warren because it was his lawyers, and the other two for emotional support. Get me a huge chunk of chocolate, there's my emotional support.

"Of course, after we—persuaded her lawyer," the guy said rubbing his fingers together indicating a payoff. Got to love lawyers, they all spoke the dollar language. "The date is set for Friday, September 20."

"That's in a week!" Apparently I wasn't supposed to say anything at this meeting, because the look that man gave me made me want to find a corner to hide in and apologize.

"Yes, it is. But trust me, honey; you want to be rid of this," I was not going to repeat the word he used, "_witch_ as soon as possible." And then he began to gather up his things in a tiny black box he called a briefcase. My jaw tightened, and I jumped to my feet.

"She's still my _mother_, idiot." Again, Kookie should not talk during this. Insulting the guy who controls your future was _not_ a smart thing.

"Kerry, calm down." Mrs. Jean tried to reason with me. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Then what the heck did witch mean? Glenda of the north?" I growled, and then looked at Mr. Warren (who I must have shamed because he was shaking his head while _Scott_ didn't say anything), so I just huffed and left. We were in the dead middle of New York City, in a building that was the tallest I had ever been in, and on the twentieth story.

After asking directions to the roof, I stormed up flight after flight of steps. I was angry at something, and ready to cry for the same reason, or it could be some other reason, I had no idea. I was so _confused_, and everyone thought they knew my mom just because of a couple of quick (though _dumb_) choices she made. They didn't know her. Heck, they barely knew _me_.

Slamming open the roof door, I dropped my jacket, and walked to the side of the building. I never would have dreamed I could jump off the top floor of a building without blinking an eye and more importantly—survived it. I was about to take the plunge when a disturbing thought entered my brain.

What if I just didn't open my wings? What if I just fell?

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard a little voice saying, 'that would be quitting'. It wasn't even my own. It was Darcy's, she was always so optimistic and positive, it was hard to believe that we were related sometimes.

"_Kerry_!" _Scott's_ voice scared me back to reality. He must have run up the stairs like a mad man because Mr. Fit-and-Trim was out of breath. "What are you doing?"

Posing for Gargoyles Illustrated? Looking dramatic with my wings spread and my head turned? I could have said anything, instead I answered, "Nothing."

"Could you do nothing somewhere else besides the ledge?"

No, not really. "Why? I can fly, remember?"

"But where are you going to go?" _Scott_ got closer until he was leaned against the railing I was balancing on. "Acola?" He pronounced it wrong (most people did).

"Ah-_so_-lay." I corrected, trying to ignore a sharp pain which struck my heart. Darcy said they weren't even there anymore. Our hometown wasn't even home. "And I'm going back to the mansion." I stated lamely.

I was ready to jump, but that man knew how to stop a girl in mid-decision.

"It's too bad you weren't going to ride back with us," he let out this aw-poor-me sigh.

Darn my curiosity, I really needed to put that cat in a cage. "Why?"

"Oh no reason; just thought we'd stop by and get ice-cream…"

Evil, ee-val, _evil!_ Manipulative and evil -"On you?"

"Naturally," _Scott_ replied, "But you want to fly back."

I jumped down, buried my other emotions, and slapped on a fake grin, "What are we waiting for?"

* * *

Boy, did I take that man for all he was worth, a triple Cookies-n-Cream in a chocolate dipped waffle cone ice-cream, and you had one happy (and _frozen_) Kookie. I almost _purred_ as I went to my room that night, until a very stark and cold reminder was overheard as I passed by the kitchen. Sam was on the phone, and all he had said that I understood was 'Mama', and _BAM_! There went my heart. This bit cookies.

It was late and so I trudged up to my bedroom—only to find my bed littered with cookie packages and chocolate bars. All sorts of things were there, and Stitch, again, held a note like he did when he first appeared to replace my de-fluffed Stitch (which, after I took Mr. Warren's bloodied feather from, I gave it to _him_ who gave me Stitch).

_'Thought this would make you smile. But no complaining about not fitting into your uniform come Saturday,' _And that's all it read, I wished I could just wrap him in a hug right now, but then again, I would have had to leave the candy unguarded. That meant that someone else might enjoy it, and we couldn't have that could we?

Of course not.


	35. Darcy Elizabeth D'Mon

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 035**_

* * *

"Oh, crap." It was about the third time I muttered that as I stared down at my little dilemma smiling back at me. It was an accident, and it was during Bobby-Jerk's class, too. His majesty let me leave to do something, and then _BAM_ another Kookie-moment took place! This was _not_ good.

I was going to be in _big_ trouble. _huge_.

There was no one to help me with this because, 1) it was _way_ too embarrassing, and 2) I just couldn't _leave_.

My heart froze when I heard the door open, "Oh my guwd! You are kidding me! I love that shirt!" Came _icky_-Nikki's voice, and that meant two things: one, Bobby-Jerk's class let out, and two, that Nikki's puppy, Daisy, was sure to follow her in here. This was looking up!

"Really? Ah think it makes me look fat!" Yup, Good ole Daisy Meagon! _Just_ the person I needed, I think. Poking my head out of the stall (yes, I was in the bathroom), she was primping her make-up and such. Nikki was rattling on about some great fashion that just started. I tried to get D-M's attention by making all the normal noises (the kind you make to get someone's attention, _not_ in the toilet stall noises!), but when that didn't work, I went for the direct approach.

"_Daisy_!" Naturally _that_ got her attention.

"Kerry?" she responded.

Who the heck else would it be?

"Could you come here for a moment?" The way the bathrooms were fashioned was that there was an 'L' shape, the back of the bathrooms were where the stalls were, and thankfully she didn't ask too many questions but just came.

"What's up-_oh gaw!_" And with that I got shoved _back_ into the stall by the girl. She looked me up and down before hissing low, "Why are you going around in the buff?"

"It's not like I'm naked!" I whispered back harshly, D-M pointed to my _obvious_ problem.

"Then why are your wi-_they_ showing?"

"Daisy? Is something wrong?" Nikki asked, her voice coming closer. "Who's in there with you, and _why_ are you sharing a stall?"

I blanked out; I tried pressing myself against the wall, tried to get my wings to draw closer to me. Two big black things poking over the top of the stall walls was a _bit_ hard to ignore. All I could do was whimper as the girl walked closer (I could hear her high heels as they hit the floor).

"Do something!" I whispered in a high pitch (and highly _desperate_) voice to D-M. She looked back at me with a lost expression, "That's an order!" I added, thinking (dumb me) that might get her brain juices going.

"You can't order me around!" she shot back.

"Don't fight with me! Not _now_."

"Okay, okay, Ah'll get rid of her and be right back." she ran out of the stall and I heard her tell Nikki a load of junk about something that was wrong with me. It was something about me not being fit for company. Nikki, the lovely _child_, asked if I was stuck in the toilet. I just _adored_ that _girl_. Grr.

It took a few minutes to convince little Miss Priss to get out of the bathroom, and then I heard the main lock click. Good going, D-M!

"It's safe, you can come out now!"

I poked my head around the corner, and sure enough, everyone was gone.

"Where's your thingamabobby?" Apparently D-M liked technical terms just as much as I did.

"In _there_!" I pointed to the stall, where she went, and then busted out laughing.

"You dropped in the toilet! Dummy!" She laughed even harder when I stamped my foot.

"It wasn't a personal choice! And you're not helping," I whined.

"I'm not reaching in there! That's disgusting! Even if it is only pee."

I felt my cheeks go bright red. "I'm asking you to do that!"

Daisy got a clueless look about her, "Then what are you asking?"

"What do I do?"

"Reach in there and get it."

_Heck no_! "No way!" Then an idea struck me, "Bobby-Jer-uh, Mr. Drake might have something."

"A big coat? Ah think that would be noticeable." She's sweet, just not very smart at times.

"Get him in here."

"But this is a _girl's_ bathroom! He's not allowed in here!" D-M stated with a look of utter disbelief on her face that I would ask such a thing. She wasn't the one who couldn't go out in the hall without causing a huge ruckus! After a few more begs and whines, she _finally_ went, and I was left to sweat it out. Bobby-Jerk would have been my _last_ choice, but since he was a member of the senior staff at the mansion he might actually prepared for something like this.

I just wanted to cry and kick something—too bad for Bobby-Jerk, he was the one who was coming my way.

* * *

I ended up leaving school around six that night. Bobby-Jerk didn't have any other solution because _none_ of us were going to do what needed to be down. So we jammed up the plumbing because we flushed the image inducer. I had to actually ride home with him and Adrian because he had football practice.

It was a no brainer that as soon as we got through the door, Bobby-the-Big-Mouth had to go share my little misadventure with everyone he could. I, in the meantime, booked it to my bedroom. _Scott_ tried to stop me to tell me something, but I kept going.

I opened my door and was completely lost.

There was a suitcase in my room as well as a few small boxes.

Were they kicking me out or something?

To find out if that was the case, I marched my person right down the steps and to the den where most people met to talk (and where Bobby-_jerk_ was wrapping up his story), before I could utter a word, there came a sound from behind me.

"_Kerry_!" Came a happy voice that shouldn't have been there.

I felt my eyes grow huge as it took all my strength to turn around. I didn't let the breath I was holding out until I saw a face I never expected to see again smiling and rushing toward me. She tackled me in a hug, not even paying attention to my new additions as she did so.

"I've missed you _so_ much!" she gushed.

I swallowed; my eyes still the size of golf balls, "D-D-Darcy?" When did I turn into Porky Pig?

"In the flesh!" Darcy, my baby _sister_, replied with a huge grin as she pulled back.

Dizziness overwhelmed me, and I backed up into the room, until I hit someone (_Scott_) who said he tried to tell me she was here before I took off. I couldn't take my eyes off, afraid that if I did, she'd disappeared. She tipped her head to the side, and asked what was wrong.

"How'd she get here?"

"We bumped into your mother earlier." That translated into that they had a long, heated argument knowing Heather. What could I say, my mother had backbone, and I did not. "And I _convinced_ her to let your sister stay for a few days," Mrs. Jean explained.

I didn't know if I should feel grateful, or be mad because she most likely used her mental convincing on my mother. Darcy grabbed onto my arm, and insisted I show her around since she had been waiting so long for me to get home. She was also curious as to what had taken me so long to get there. I guess she wasn't in the room when Bobby-Jerk explained this all to everyone _else_.

* * *

"I think I'm going to die." My stomach _hurt_. Darcy patted my arm, telling me it was going to be okay. This was what I got for stocking up on all those sweets and then eating them (not all, Darcy had some, too) in one sitting. We ended up talking most of the night until Mr. Kurt and Dr. Hank insisted we go to sleep because we were loud. Too bad for them me and Darcy sleep talk to each other, it's a weird sister thing.

"You can't die. You got to let me see you fly."

Typical sister, but I was happy to have her there with me. Thankfully, the higher ups gave me the rest of the week off to be with her (oh listen to me complain, oh wait, you couldn't because I wasn't!) since it was doubtful I would get this chance again anytime soon.

I propped myself up on my pillows, Darcy sat at the edge of my bed looking adorable as was her curse.

I got the bad attitude (to quote my mother) and Darcy was the happy-go-lucky one. Like a Daisy-Mae but less boy crazy, I think. There had been a question gnawing on the edge of my brain since it decided to function again (and was convinced that she _was_ real and not proof my sanity had finally snapped). She was only fourteen and everyone knows all girls love those awkward growth spurts at that age, I had one and then my body got lazy apparently. 5'6.5''is nothing to brag about, unless it's to Mr. Logan, but I chose life.

"Why aren't you scared of what I am?" Okay, so the bluntness was more like my old self, but after a while, being around someone familiar the 'me' came out in me.

Darcy, for her part, only smiled, "I am."

Gun please! _Ouch_! If I had to hurt, at least let it be a physical mortal wound, not an emotional one!

"Well, I _used_ to be." Ooh_-kay_. "I found a lot of your old notebooks, you know, the ones full of mutant stuff? Well, I read through a lot of those, and then read the articles you kept. It made sense, what you wrote. About how you weren't scared, but fascinated."

"I said that?"

"A long time ago apparently. Did you know you were one of them?"

"No. Trust me, I would never have been dropped a bomb like that if I had." I shook my head, "How did mom explain my leaving?"

"She didn't. Just said that you left and when the school asked about where you went, she told them 'away' and then hang up or walk away. I was like 'whatever'. And all those boxes," All two of them, "Are full of the things mom _thought_ she got rid of. But _I_ saved them!"

"No kidding."

She twisted her face in annoyance. "No need to be rude about it! Humph!" She crossed her arms and turned her head away.

"I'd stick that lip back in before you trip on it," I shot, which got her tongue getting stuck out at me. A knock on the door and with my high and mighty permission to 'enter' Bobby-Jerk stood there. I think Darcy about fell off the bed when she looked at him. "Can I help you?"

He smiled and Darcy about went into cardiac arrest, oh this did not make big sister happy.

"Prof wanted me to come and get you two for something, and you must be Darcy." He then came _into_ my room, and my poor sister looked as if she was about to faint. She was _so_ transparent. They shook hands, and talked a bit (a _very_ little bit because she suddenly got shy).

As Bobby-the-cradle-robber was leaving, I could have just murdered my _loving_ and _wonderful_ sister and her big fat mouth!

"You know he looks like Tom Coody, that guy you had a crush on since I don't even _remember_ when!"

That got the egotistical meanie's head to turn around, and give me this 'oh-really' look before he left for good.

"Darcy?" I asked sweetly, grabbing a pillow without her noticing.

"Yeah?"

I attacked her with my pillow, "_Die_!"

* * *

"Are you sure?" There wasn't any way I could! I wasn't strong enough! "I really don't want to kill my sister."

"Definitely, and you have your adrenaline 'kick' to give you the Rogue syndrome if you get into trouble." Mr. Warren reassured. Darcy was about to bounce herself into the sky she was so excited. Someone at dinner mentioned, half-heartedly, that my codename was Blyt and my energetic little puppy about went through the roof with happiness. Then she wouldn't leave me alone, and insistedt she finally get to 'fly with Blyt'.

She thought it was cool, and it would be, until I dropped her (no, not on purpose!). And then Mr. Jean-Paul said that I should, of course he was slightly cold and was known for an 'acid tongue'-I think that means sarcasm, but I wasn't sure. Mr. Warren was for it, and so were all the other people.

"Ah heard that!" Miss Rogue shouted from the window.

"Come on, please? You can't say no."

"Wanna make a bet I can't?" Yeah, I was being stubborn, but it's better than hurting her.

"The _real_ Blyt wouldn't be scared." She smirked at me, knowing she pinned me. Man! She's good!

"Come on, Kookie, entertain a younger sibling," Adrian's voice came from right behind us.

"Oh, another one," One death look to little sister, and she shut up. Good girl, I was glad she remembered our little pillow talk (me trying to ram the pillow down her throat). Adrian looked—nice. I didn't know what he did different (maybe it was the color of the shirt?) but he looked a lot better than when I saw him last (of course, that was when he was all sweaty and nasty from football practice).

"You or her?"

"_Do_ it! _Do_ _it_!" D-M chanted, and even Darcy gave her the what-planet-did-you-come-from look. I sighed and tried to remember how Paige told me to tap into the 'super strength' since it had to do with my skin changing, too. I didn't want to do that, my sister was accepting of the wings, but jet-black skin? I looked like a demon.

"Oh cool, you are going to do it!" I wanted for everyone to turn around or something in case I publicly embarrassed myself (again). But I did get the lift off easy, and I was happy with myself, and Darcy was ecstatic about it. Adrian gave me one of his really nice smiles, and all I could think of was what Kenney said.

"Less googly eyes, more flying." _Drake_ insisted. I gave him my best drop-dead glare and then attempted to pick up my baby sister. Surprise of all surprises, I was actually able to _do_ it! So naturally I wasn't about to hang around with her, just kinda flapping there, I took off.

"This is _so_ cool!" She screamed (in my ear). Her arms were wrapped around my neck, and I had her in the typical victim hold as Mr. Warren called it and showed me how to do. After a few minutes of just flying over the woods and lake, Darcy piped up again, "You must love it up here."

I did my best to shrug in my current position, my stomach still giving me occasional cramps.

"I don't visit often."

"Why _not_? This is awesome! I would love to fly on my own!" She gushed. Then a moment clicked by, "You aren't scared of it are you?"

I winced, that was the same question Mrs. Jean asked at our latest mental meeting. I never pictured myself with wings, and although I used them to fly when I was told to, I never practiced or tried to enjoy them like the others. What was the point? They brought me to a nasty place in my life.

"Nah," I lied.

"Liar." She's good. "Since when have you ever wimped out on anything?"

"Since always?"

"Whatever! You were the only girl in the school to tell Mr. Feel-Good McFeltt to leave you alone. Didn't you end up sucker punching him? You were like a legend in sixth grade!" She remembered.

"Actually I threw a book at him for looking down my shirt." I smiled guiltily, "I hit him in a—low spot."

"Yeah, I know. That was like _wow_."

"Whatever happened to him?"

Darcy gave me a goofy smile, "He was teaching Sex Ed. when I left. I think the cheerleaders even worshiped you for a while."

"Yeah, right."

"Anything to make you happy."

This coming from a girl whose favorite past time used to be in annoying me.

* * *

Time just flew by with my baby sister. She was always the happy one, the cup half-full one. A reminder of who I once was and how much I had changed. She thought I'd grown, I thought I'd sunk. But either way, I was losing her. Tomorrow was the official day of disownment and with Darcy here, I had made it through the week without committing a felony.

Or shoving Chris out a window…he wouldn't stop with the pranks!

Not only me, but Darcy. Sheesh, he was going to _die_. He not only pulled out some of the _oldest_ tricks in the book, but all the unethical ones as well. Darcy noticed there was a _hole_ in my wall I shared with Chris, and it was directly lined up to where I usually change! _The pervert_!

Me and my little sister ransacked his room (while he was at school) and stole all of his private things with girls and stuff, and then had a little roast where the others had there's not too long ago at the bar-be-que. And as for the hole?

Filled it with gum, curtsy of Daisy and her temper.

Chris was more than a bit mad, but with a locked door, and my radio blasting his little temper tantrums couldn't be heard—at least not until he short-circuited my appliances. Jerk.

Back to Darcy and her leaving. She said that the boxes were just some of the stuff she was able to store away from mom's rampage on the forget-Kerry campaign.

I was glad when Mrs. Jean said that a taxi was coming to pick her up, and not my Mom. I didn't know how I was going to react when I saw that lady again, and I would too, on Friday. Tomorrow. It was a like a solid punch in the gut knowing all of this. And, yet, as I thought before, it wasn't wholly unexpected after the stunts my _mother_ pulled earlier.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." was all she kept saying with a sad look on her face. Couldn't blame her though, next time I would see Darcy was tomorrow, and if she even acknowledged my presence I think my mom—I mean _Heather_ would whip out a gun and kill her for associating with me.

The mutant.

"Yeah, I guess so." What was I supposed to say? I wasn't good at good-byes! I hated them! They sounded so-permanent. Probably because most of them were in my life-_argh_! I was depressing myself! She stepped off the first steps (_Scott_ and Dr. Hank got volunteered by Mrs. Jean to load her few things into the cab) and then she turned around and hugged me.

Again, another startled reaction from me.

Hard to believe I was not the touchy feely type wasn't it? I didn't think it would be a stretch of imagination to picture me not being that way. But regardless I actually hugged her back, and that's when I felt tears falling from her eyes and on to my arms.

"I wish I could tell you-" Darcy muttered, "Anyone-"

"What?" I whispered, my sister was never this weepy, she was the Christian of the family, and therefore said we'd meet again always in one place or another. So what had her trembling in my arms and crying?

She looked up at me, and for a moment my baby sister looked like she had aged ten years, no longer the sweet innocent fourteen-year-old, going on fifteen, but more like a fourteen-year-old going on thirty. I was now _really_ worried. Mom wouldn't pull anything on Darcy, would she?

"What's _wrong_?"

"I ain't got _all day_!" Got to love impatience, but my sister pushed me away, waved, and jumped in the car shouting her good-byes as she grew smaller in the distance.

That little tweerp! You couldn't' say something like that and then _leave_! That's rude! That's annoying! That's too much like me!

Wait a sec; I did not just call myself rude. Oh wait, I did-whoops.

After going back into the house, I hunted down Mrs. Jean to ask her exactly what type of convincing she pulled with my mom.

"I made her believe Darcy was going to meet her today, that she hadn't even come with your mother. It was easy to do." I was half a tick away from asking what was wrong with Darcy when she promptly changed the subject. That's about as annoying as running away without answering.

Less rude, but just as annoying.

That's when the alarm started to sound.

* * *

I had to go alone, well, almost, except D-M and Mr. Warren's annoying opinionated lawyer (but he wasn't the one visualizing my mom pulling a gun on my sister) and when I saw my mother, I honestly thought I was going to cry. But instead I felt an overwhelming urge to throw a chair at her.

Some repressed anger or something.

Darcy was right behind her looking forward; she only spared me a tired smile as my mother didn't even bother to look at me.

Scratch the chair, give me a table.

And the first thing the lawyer told me to do was to keep quiet and let him do all the talking. As if I was going to say something wrong or improper.

Okay, so I was _thinking_ about it, but unless he's psychic, he shouldn't have known that. Probably Mr. Warren's advice to keep my quiet.

It's not like I had a big mouth like Jubilee or Daisy.

No matter, because the hearing started and mostly big words were flung around from lawyer to lawyer and hit the judge on several occasions. I just sat there. Thank goodness I had an image inducer on or my mom might not have even recognized me as her child, which she still had to do until the judge said 'okay' with it and all.

But something happened I didn't expect, and that had Mr. Warren's lawyer looking all cocky. I could barley believe my ears, and catching glance at my _mom_, she had an angered-surprised expression etched on her face.

The judge ruled that the emancipation was thrown out, and that my mother was being charged with Juvenal abandonment!

She was going to get into trouble for ditching me!

* * *

"You have to feel good!" Daisy-Mae insisted, dancing around me clapping.

Yeah, I felt great. _Wonderful_. My mom and sister left the court room like their rears were on fire (actually my sister was being dragged). I wanted to ask Darcy what had made her so upset yesterday, but my mommy dearest would have none of that. Mr. Warren's lawyer smiled at me and said that he spared me the embarrassment of being related to _her_.

"It's a hollow victory. I still don't have a mom." Or a dad. I wish I had him to run to, but to do that, I would have to be dead, and I didn't want that to happen any day soon.

"That's up to you."

"Jean! Scott! When'd y'all get here?" Daisy about jumped on them as she bounded next to them. I thought they were still on their missions, something to do with a lot of mutants, some Magnet guy's (?) legacy and yadda yadda. So seeing the Summerses stand there was more than a bit of a shock.

"Sorry, we were—preoccupied," Mrs. Jean explained (as if it really explained anything).

"Need a ride?" _Scott _offered, dangling the keys from his fingers. Daisy about took out some more people as she ran to the doors. That girl didn't need to be a mutant; she was scary enough as a regular old human.

"So Paul really came through for you, didn't he?" Mrs. Jean questioned.

"Yeah, if I wanted my mom to hate me _more_ by turning the tables on her," I grumbled. _Scott_ and Mrs. Jean went on about how I shouldn't worry and so on and on (and on and _on_). Until Paul (the lawyer) came running up to them waving around some papers like a flag of surrender.

"Jean, Scott_, wait up!_" They did, and he started to rattle on about the details (at this rate I was going to be _camping_ in the court house) I blocked his speech (typical Kookie mode) and then he said something that caught my attention. "And Judge Hart approved of the vote for adoption in the girl's case."

_Red light_! Stop traffic! There was a wreck in the lanes of common sense and understanding!

"Who are you two adopting?" I just _knew_ they were going to say Darcy, to get her away from my less-than-likeable mom. I didn't want her anywhere _near_ the mansion if she wasn't (or was) a mutant! She was a _kid_. A little _girl_. She didn't need this!

And if they even suggested it I was going to get _mad_.

"You."

Adopt me?


	36. Just a Little Bit Closer!

_**Lucky Me**_

_**Chapter 036**_

* * *

I couldn't believe three things in my life.

One, that my mom's latest attempt to hurt me was destroyed.

Two, that Mrs. Jean and _Scott _wanted to adopt me.

Three, that I was _caught_ in the grocery store with _Bobby_-the-_idiot_.

Now before anyone's mind ends up in the gutter (probably too late for some already) I didn't mean _anything_ like that. And, what, you ask was the big deal about going to the grocery store with Bobby-Idiot (besides him singing the grocery list off at the top of his lungs?)? Was that for anyone who would dare to recall, a certain _someone_ who thought Adrian was gay -_worked_ at the only flippin' grocery store in Salem Center!

I bumped into him while he was stocking the bread and Mr. Jump-to-conclusions, jumped from one to another at lightening speeds.

"You're here to see me, aren't you Ker-ree."

"Stop inhaling the glue, you're delusional," I shot back. He made a face and then continued to bug me. He asked me to Homecoming, and I flatly told him _no_ like nine million times, and just when I thought I had gotten it through his thick head, he smirked.

Little did I know what it was he was smirking about.

I felt a constant chill going up and down my spine the _whole_ shopping trip, and when me and Mr. _Drake_ met up at the cash register, the chill (I realized) wasn't coming from Ice-boy. So I about ran to the SUV Bobby-jerk insisted was the only vehicle he could drive to and from school. While we were loading up the vehicle (throwing all the bags into the back seat) a voice that made my skin crawl started to say things that made me want to hide.

"Well, isn't this interesting," Bobby-_idiot_ and I both looked around the side of the vehicle to see _him_ standing there. I felt my face go pale. "A _student_ and a _teacher_, who are sharing the responsibility of grocery shopping? Loading it into _one_ vehicle? Oh, this is going to make the school board happy."

"Mr. Yohalm, I didn't know you worked here." I know Bobby-JERK was the renowned Ice-_boy_, and man did he live _up_ to it! I didn't think a single word he just said had an ounce of niceness or warmth in it.

The annoying creature, K'Yo' sauntered (he hasn't got _anything_ compared to Mr. Remy's walk! Not that I was looking at it or anything…) over to the vehicle where Bobby-Jerk stood crossed armed and annoyed. I was about to pass out, there was no _way_ that little-mean-monkey boy was going to let this slide.

"Oh, yeah, my parents own the place." He then looked at me and smirked. "I guess this means you _are_ going to go to Homecoming with me."

"Why should I?" I squeaked.

"Because I can get the surveillance cameras, and I can just give the schools administration a copy. Just think what kind of questions would be raised about Mr. Drake's morality?"

What about _your_ mortality you black-hearted toad! I could just fly him to the sky and drop him, but that went against the school's rule book.

"If that's the angle you're going from Kenney, then I suggest you talk to _me_ and leave _her_ out of this." Bobby-Idiot actually didn't try to joke his way out of this! Color me surprised!

"From you, Robert, I want a straight A in your Sat/ACT math course, without me having to do any homework, or take any tests. Basically a free ride." The air _did_ get colder. Of this I was sure. And it's no big question as to _who_ made it that way this time. "And you, Kerry, I want you to come to Homecoming with me, and then go to the _real_ party afterwards."

I locked my jaw. This was not another complication I needed in my life! But what other choice did I have? Sure, I could have punch him into the middle of next week, but my luck would be that it'd also be on tape. Dang. I was caught!

"Fine."

* * *

"_Fine_?" Bobby-_jerk_ about busted my eardrum after the whole K'Yo' incident as we were _speeding_ back to the mansion.

"What else was I suppose to say?" I snapped. He might not have been thrilled I was going to Homecoming with the school's playboy, but I actually had to be the one _with_ him! I'd sooner throw Kenney out a window, then to ever _willingly_ go anywhere with him .Yeah, there was that short time when I actually sort of did like him, but that was quickly erased when he started to blackmail me into everything.

"No?"

"Easy for you to say, it's _your_ fault!"

"My fault?" He slammed on the breaks, barely stopping in time for the red light. "How is this _my_ fault?"

"_You_ wanted to stop at the stupid store! _You_ said it couldn't wait! And now look what _you_ did!"

He glared at me, but then added dryly, "At least you're already in a rotten mood, check my bag, your last test paper is in there."

So, like a good, yet angry, robot, I did just that. Went to his little briefcase-cloth-type thingie and fished my test paper out, I saw Adrian's and I about wanted to burn it; he got a 87 on his. I looked at mine, and about made the _jerk_ crash.

"I failed _again_?" He only smiled that really _annoying _'ha-ha' smile that made me want to throw him out of the car. "So I'm going to all those dumb study sessions for no reason, aren't I?"

"Maybe I'm too much of a distraction for you."

I growled at him, and then an evil thought struck my mind, if they wanted me to become a great strategist, why not start at the home?

* * *

I smiled, as I handed Miss Reese a little note, "Here, this is for you." I said as _sweetly_ as possible.

"What is it?" Miss Reese was a little on the nutsy side, and her crush was no secret, and if I had to go down for him, he was going to suffer right along with me.

"Just someone's phone number, Miss Reese, someone—who likes _math_."

Man, her face began to beam, "Really? He gave it to you for me?"

"Of _course_!" I wasn't much of an actress, but hey, it's only lying with emotions wasn't it? "He would never think of inviting anyone else to _Homecoming_." The class was still not in session, and in actuality we had five minutes before it started, so no one (not Chris or Adrian) could warn Mr. Drake of my little gift to Bobby-_jerk's_ number one fan (if you didn't count himself).

"Homecoming?" Her smile was going to break her face in half, I swear it. "I _knew_ he liked me!"

As I took my seat, I had a contented smile on my lips. Bobby-Jerk was going down. Next was Chris.

* * *

"_Ooh_!" D-M beamed bouncing around me with a goofy grin on her face and curls like springs going every which way off her head. She was in pink, and praise above that she did not get the two piece dress she wanted so badly.

I was stuffed into a black backless (because of the wings, duh) number. It was _so_ tight that I didn't even have room to breathe in the stupid thing. It had this pointless missing part on the side that I just _knew_ was going to cause trouble, but at least I could punch anyone who tried anything into Timbuktu thanks to Mr. Logan and his training tips.

Adrian was polite about the way D-M and I looked, and he didn't look to bad himself. In fact, he looked _super_ nice. Then came Chris with the shoot-me-now expression plastered on his face. I couldn't get him a make shift date because D-M had already claimed him as hers for that night. Why she wanted to willingly be seen in public with this guy was _so_ far beyond me.

Bobby-Jerk was next. I smirked at him, and he gave me the same drop-dead look he had given me since Miss Reese said she would go with him to the Homecoming to be a chaperone. Since he couldn't 'break her heart' he agreed to pick her up at her place though he said he had a stun gun in his pocket in case she got a little overly friendly.

Thankfully, I got to convince the jerky child (Kenney) that it would be okay if I came with my friends to the shindig. It had been two weeks since the evil critter caught me and my teacher shopping together and jumped to _bad_ conclusions. Like I would _ever_ do _anything_ with X-_boy_.

"Kookie, before you go, take this." _Scott_ handed me a cell phone, and I didn't make eye contact with him. I still was in—I don't know, denial or something about the whole _Scott-_and-Jean-wanting-to-adopt-me thing so I had avoided them at all costs for the past three weeks after _Paul_ (Mr. Warren's lawyer) said that he was going to make it possible.

"Uh, thanks."

"And Kookie," Mrs. Jean this time, "Call if you need _anything_."

What about an excuse not to go?

* * *

We were going _up_hill.

I heard D-M and Adrian (with Nikki, of course) talking about Ashley McVaugh's party that was in the _valley_. So why the _heck_ were we going _up_hill, Creepo? Homecoming had been what it always seemed to be. Another excuse to show off one's dress and date (I didn't show off either) and then go to someone's house whose parents weren't there and get too drunk to care. But (dumb me) went with K'Yo' to the party even though Adrian _and_ Bobby-Jerk warned me _not_ to.

I guess I should have listened.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked. K'Yo's family must have brought in a lot of money from that grocery store to afford a convertible like the one he was driving. He had the roof down which surprised me (I thought he'd be too concerned about his hair messing up) and it also made my wings less cramped in the tiny car. Mr. Warren had been helping me 'draw them in' but nothing spectacular yet.

"To the moon, _Kerry_, to the moon."

_Oh_, brother. "Uh-huh."

"Have you ever been to L. I. Peek?" K'Yo asked, trying to impress me with a charming smile that came off looking as if a snake should own it.

"No." I wasn't under contract to be nice to the guy, so there was no way I was going to be.

"It's a great place." And with that he made a quick turn and parked the car on this supposed peek as soon as I saw what it _really_ was, I about gagged.

It was a make-out spot—how retro (how Daisy-Mae I sounded-_save me_).

"You are joking."

"Nope."

"Then you _are_ the joke." I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. There was no _way_ I was going to let this creep _touch_ me, Bobby-Jerk could just get fired for all I cared at this point!

"I know you want me, Kerry. Every girl at school does." _Oh_! Help! Loosing air! Ego was smothering me! "So I decided to grant your wish, so stop playing hard to get." And he tried to reach over at me but I squeezed myself to the door. The more I refused, the harder he tried.

I was starting to get scared. Sure, it's one thing to _say_ what you'll do in a situation, but it's another thing completely to be _in_ that situation and having to do something. Kenney was coming on _way_ strong, and all that fancy training flew out the door. I wanted to scream, but I was too scared that the boy would try to shove his tongue down my throat.

"Don't fight it."

Forget that! I was going to _kill_ it! My hand found one of my high heels that I had left on the floor board (those things _weren't_ comfortable), and found my ray of hope, "_Get_." I gripped the shoe, "_Off_." grabbed his shoulder, "_Of_." pushed him back, "_Me_!" And then…

"_You_ _witch_!" He screamed after my high heel met the side of his head (the foot part, not the heel). He could call me all the names he wanted to, I was _out_ of there! Climbing out of the vehicle, I staggered away, my wings not helping, they were just begging to be let free to fly, but Kenney was still watching and I knew it wouldn't be possible. "Get back here, girl!"

Oh sure, after what he pulled I was going to turn around and run into his arms, yeah right! Apparently a shoe to the head didn't spell it out for _this_ moron, he followed me. Not only that, _grabbed my arm_. "Where do you think you're going?" He barked.

"I said to let _go of me!_" and then _bam,_ I punched him. Not only just punched him, but my powers kicked in and the boy flew backwards and was out cold when I went to go check on him. I didn't feel guilty. Kenney deserved it. I knew what it would do to Bobby-Jerk, and then to me in turn, but _too_ bad. It was a good thing the guy came after me, because I forgot my purse (I actually was forced into carrying one) with the cell phone the Summers couple insisted I take. I grabbed my purse, and then saw something shinning in the moonlight that made me smile.

Mr. Warren said that the Summers pack were all devious in their own ways, if there was any possibility of me taking _Scott_ and Mrs. Jean up on their offer, there was always one way to start.

* * *

Mrs. Jean was fit to be tied when she picked me up. She was two steps away from erasing Kenney's memory and making him think he was a girl or something equally as weird. I didn't even say anything when she picked me up, but then again my mental shields weren't great according to _every_ telepath who felt the need to tell me (which was everyone I'd met). And like any girl would have, I started crying about the whole mess.

"Why did you go out with an over sexed pervert like that anyway?"

Apparently she wasn't getting the whole story from the top of my mind. "I had to."

"You never _have_ to."

"I did," I sighed _really_ heavily, "I had to because that person back there saw me and Mr. Drake together."

"Together?" Mrs. Jean sounded like the news reporter was coming out in her.

"_Shopping_," I felt my cheeks heat up, "we were shopping together and Kenney caught us. Said he'd use it to get Bobby-Je-Mr. Drake fired and stuff."

"I see."

And that was all she said.

* * *

It was close to three in the morning, when I invaded the kitchen. Once I relaxed and freed myself from the black dress that I swore was two sizes too small, I wanted _food_. I had taken out all of my chocolate and candy a few weeks ago when Darcy was here. As I was scrounging around the kitchen for anything that looked remotely like it would have taste, I heard the kitchen door open and shut. There were only a few people who hadn't made it home since Homecoming (everyone but me) and since there were three separate vehicles taken, it was no surprise they arrived home separately.

"Hey," I muttered, from the corner I was digging through. "Have a good time?" I was being sarcastic, and I hoped he realized that.

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

It was dark, so it was hard for me to see him, but as he was leaving and the light hit him, I had a pretty good idea as to _why _he was late. Hair was messed up, clothes ruffled, and a guilty look.

All I could do was glare as he left, and wonder why in the world I felt jealous.

* * *

"Ya've got to not think about it so much, it's more like just a thing ya do." Where have I heard this before? Oh right, when I was learning to use my wings. And did it work then?

Nope, not really.

Was it going to work now?

Probably not.

I didn't even want to be training; I wanted to be throwing something at _his_ head for being _that_ way. Typical boy, first pretty face and he was all over her. What a _Kenney_.

"Are ya payin' attention?" _Miss_ Guthrie asked, looking down her nose at me. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

She went off on how if I wasn't going to pay attention then there was no need for her to try to teach me something I didn't want to learn. So I had to play wanting student and insist that I _did_ want to learn how to control my skin (which sounded like a bad case of acne than anything).

So Paige tried to tell me how easy it was to drop off one's skin, and then she got distracted again.

I smirked as she seemed to find a new interest.

"Hi, Mr. Warren." I smiled as Paige suddenly became quiet and shy. I must be spending way too much time with these people because as I was leaving (way before time), I echoed what my _new_ teacher told me, "If you're not going to pay attention then there's no need for me to try and learn from you!"

And _poof_ I was a gone Kookie.

* * *

It was Sunday and Paige's crush was confirmed on Mr. Warren (which I thought was hilarious) and Adrian told me, in passing, that he saw Kenney's car getting towed. Apparently K'Yo'-the-Kewl lost his keys.

I wondered why.

Please ignore my evil smile.

I had no idea how to handle Monday or if Bobby-Jerk still had a job. After Friday night, I could have cared _less_ if he still had a job.

"Kerry! Phone for ya!" Miss Rogue believed in the shout-until-the-person-heard-you announcement system, which was no problem with me. But the phone? I guess I was about to find out about what Kenney was going to do.

When I picked it up in the hall, I about hung up when I heard who it was. There was only one person who screamed that I was her '_Ker_-kitten!'

"G-Grandma?"

"Why on _Earth_ are you calling me that? It's not like anyone believes I'm old enough to be a grandmother anyway," Yeah, _right_. "Grammy Arty is fine, Ker-kitten, you know that. It took a while to track you down! You should have told me you were moving!"

Why would I? My Dad's mom _scared_ me. Some folks get the typical television grandparents, and I get an ex-solid gold dancer type grandmother.

"I must have forgotten!"

"Liar." She was very good at that too. "But I heard what Heather was doin' to you, baby, and I wanted to call and see how you were doing. Are you handling it okay?"

I was in the middle of the hall, talking on the phone, and because she's just that way Daisy-Mae was pretending to straighten the pictures. When she looked over in my direction and smiled, I glared at her and told her (mouthed) to _beat it_. She rolled her eyes and started to complain, but did it nonetheless.

I'd get this leader thing down sooner or later.

"I'm—better. I have—friends, I guess, who are taking care of me." I guess their friends, I had no _clue_ what to call these people. Except two want me to call them 'mom' and 'dad' apparently (they hadn't said that, I was dramatizing, I did that sometimes).

"I heard Heather got her teeth kicked in by that fancy lawyer! I need to send him some of my Nurse pictures!"

"_No_!" I was the only girl who had a Grandmother that took 'bedroom' pictures for guys, and sent them out as postcards! "I'm sure there's something else you can do! How'd you find out about that anyway?"

"Darcy told me. Your mother still wants to see me crippled and wrinkled in an old foogie home, but ha-ha! Your sister loves me still! I heard you might be getting adopted instead; wanna tell me about the folks that want to take you in?"

I really didn't, so I made up the excuse that I would hunt one of them down later and let them talk to her—later. She wasn't didn't fall for that, she said _now_ or she'd visit in under a week. Luckily, Adrian walked by at that time grumbling about Chris or something, and I got him to talk to the old lady while I went to hunt one of the Summers down.

The only one I found was _Scott_, I was really hoping to find Mrs. Jean, but I had to take who I could get. To get him to the phone required me doing something I rarely did. I made with the puppy eyes and pouting lip (it was more of my sister's trick than mine, I was more likely to hit the person into submission, but then again everyone here could kick my little feathered hinny every which way). This was an attack that Mr. Supreme-Summers wasn't ready for and quickly caved. You'd think with the parade of people constantly marching through those doors he'd have more of an immunity to simple girl tricks. Good for me, bad for him.

When we got back to the hall phone Adrian's face was priceless, he looked shocked and embarrassed at the same time. He was cute when he looked like that, but then again he was _just_ a friend.

Handing the phone over to me, the first thing to pop out of my Grammy Arty's mouth was, "He doesn't sound cute enough to be your boyfriend."

"_Grandma_!" I then warned her I was handing her over to a person who had the ability to kick me out of the mansion and she said she'd behave.

I just hoped that was true.

As soon as _Scott_ got the phone, I ran for cover. Maybe they wouldn't find me for a while and not have me packing because my eccentric Grandma decided to hunt me down.

* * *

They cornered me!

Right after school! I was told that I was being picked up, and wouldn't you know who did that? _Scott_ and Mrs. Jean. They had the biggest (bridging on freakiest) smiles a person could have. I really didn't have a choice by the time I realized _who_ came to pick me up (they had already spotted me). So I got into the little preset trap and waited for my sentence.

But I didn't get any. Just silence.

Silence with two adults was _way_ worse than them talking your ear off. So I began the nervous fidgeting. _That_ tipped them off that I was uneasy so the repetitive conversation began.

"How was your day?" and the typical school questions, I slipped back into my 'fine' answer mode. Bobby-Jerk wasn't here to trip me up with questions, so I thought it would be safe. Once all the questions ran out, I looked out the window and realized something I decided that I should share (as if they didn't know).

"This isn't the way back to the mansion." It was weird to think that the word _mansion _rolled so easily off my tongue, like it was no biggie. Sheesh, I was changing. Make it stop! Make it stop!

"Kenney didn't bother you did he?"

"No, didn't even bug me." Don't ask me why not, but with Mrs. Jean's short nod, I could guess why. She probably did something with his memories. I didn't know if I should feel awestruck and thankful, or leery of a woman who, with little trouble, was able to warp people's minds.

"Who's Kenney?" _Scott_ asked, it was nice to know Mr. Boy-Scout-Scout-out-your-cookie's voice wasn't broken (when nervous, I slipped back into old habits).

"It's a female thing." The universal phrase that got all men to drop the conversation, one I didn't use much, but apparently Mrs. Jean did. But knowing how easily she manipulated both my Mom, I mean _Heather_, and Kenney, I didn't feel as comfortable around her anymore. I'd rather Mr. Starched-Sergeant-Shorts Summers than her. Now that was pretty bad.

"We're going shopping."

Oh _man!_ Please take me now, right now, I couldn't do the mall thing _again_.

"Don't worry, I'm here, and I don't do the shopping thing well either." _Scott_ tried to comfort, but I only got a feeling that I should be calling him Mr. Skin-flint Summers.

"It's nothing to do with clothes, either." Mrs. Jean added, at least that was a relief, "its furniture." Great, I won't die from clothes being too tight, I'll die from boredom.

"For who?"

"Some more new people, Jean-Paul needs bedroom things." Oh kay. That guy sorta gave me the creeps, like I was a bug to be squashed. And when he did talk to me, it's always so sarcastic it made Chris look like a mumbling old man. But _more_ people? Oh joy, oh rapture, oh for the sheer love of room and space.

I leaned back and waited for the car ride to end, but the conversation picked up again.

"We struck a deal with Heather," _Scott_ said, "We agreed to have Paul," Mr. Stuck-Up-Lawyer-Guy, "drop the abandonment charge, if she would allow us to adopt you."

"So your making my mom put me up for adoption?" Just to make sure the _genius_ (ha-ha) understood correctly what she was being told.

"Exactly. If the abandonment charge was to go through, the state would take you."

Hm, let's think, either live in an orphanage or be in a house full of mutants? The house occasionally got blown up, and the mutants were normally running around fighting with other people who didn't see it their way. Let me think….

"We won't force you into anything, Kerry, but it's a very important option you need to be thinking about." AKA, do or die. Yipes, I was not meaning to be so negative, but with all the dangerous vibes, how could I not be?

* * *

"So that's what's going on in your life, huh?" _he_ said, again leaning back on my bed. I was pacing my room, occasionally bumping into the walls with my wings (I know I know, I had them for _so_ long now, but hey, I still forgot there was an extension of me most the time, I got mad in math class and they sprung out and punched to people sitting beside me, the other kids were freaked out because no one could _see_ my wings).

"Yeah, isn't that what I just said?" I snapped. I still had a _very_ vivid memory of how _he_ came home after Homecoming. It wasn't like I was jealous or anything, nope, no way. _He_ was a friend, and I was just _not_ jealous.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the nest this morning," _He_ pointed out.

"Better than waking up in some _else's_ nest," I grumbled, and folded my arms. I didn't care, I was _not_ jealous. I couldn't care less.

The bed made a noise, so I guessed _he_ got up, "I have a sense that you're referring to something in particular."

"You'd really give Sherlock a run for his money, wouldn't you?" I wasn't being mean and rude because _he_ did something with _her_. I really couldn't have cared less! Oh, wait, I already said that.

"Whoa! Put the temper away, if this is about Friday night, then if you must now, I got into a fight."

Oh _right_. A fight with what? His hormones? Sheesh, what a lame excuse, and if _he_ felt like _he_ had to explain anything to me, then _he_ was wrong. I didn't want to know because I was _not_ jealous. And just to prove I wasn't jealous I tacked on something stupid.

"And here I thought you actually had guts." I turned to give _him_ one of my best 'ha-ha' looks, but _he_ was a lot closer than I thought. I barely got to turn around when _he_ was less than a foot from me, and backing me into a corner by coming closer.

And then _he_ did something that most girls know was dangerous, _he_ did that low-whisper thing that made a deep voice sound even deeper, and trust me, deep voices were a _huge_ weakness with me.

"I think you're jealous, Kookie."

I hit the wall, right next to my door, and playing Mr. Cool Guy, he put one hand on the wall, trapping me as _he_ leaned in closer. "Are you?" _he_ asked in that same mind numbing deep whisper type thing. I could have scooped out my brain at this point and used it for jelly.

"Why w-would you say something l-like that?" Oh great, real suave, stutter like Porky Pig. _Prove_ to _him_ that _he_ was affecting me. Sheesh, this was a genius here. But then again, when else had I been _so_ close to a guy that I sort-of-in-a-small-way _liked_ (but I wasn't jealous of his DATE!)?

Tracing my jaw line _very_ slowly with _his_ fingers tips, I felt butterflies spring into my stomach and do a line dance all through my insides. I shouldn't be this way! I was _never_ a girl-girl, why was I letting a guy affect me so much?

"Because I think you like me, Kookie, even if you don't show it in front of anyone." _He_ then leaned in further until his nose bumped mind gently, with the same hand _he_ had on my face a second ago he placed it on my waist, and made me come closer to _him_.

Then _he_ continued to tipped his head slighlty.

_Oh_.

_My_.

_Feathers_.

_He_ was going to _kiss_ me. And unlike Kenney (ick ick puke puke) I _wanted_ it. And _that_ scared me, even as I felt my own eyes start to slip shut.

_He_ was so close, in a second—_wow_, just in a second-

"_Whoa_!"

Just in a second— Mr. Kurt was going to burst through my door like a mad cannibal wanting his diner and totally kill the mood.

"Sorry you two, I always seem to bumping into your personal time." No matter what apologies he gave, his big grin wasn't adding any authenticity to his words.

_He_ moved away from me (duh), and stood there with _his_ typical attitude.

"Any reason why you can barreling in here?" I asked, trying to keep my heart from pounding out of my ribcage.

"Actually, the Professor wanted to see you."

"Which you?" _he_ asked, stretched and acted as if nothing had or was about to happen.

"You, you." _He_ then nodded and left. Didn't say good-bye or anything. _How ruse_! You didn't do that to a girl and then just _leave_!

"Mr. Kurt, you have the _worst_ possible timing." I sighed out, still trying to exterminate all the butterflies that had hatched in my stomach when he got _so_ close and to doing _that_.

"I'm starting to realize this." He smiled, and then left humming some tune that sounded a lot like 'so-and-so-sitting-in-a-tree' but without the words I wasn't sure.


	37. I Don't want to talk about it!

**_Lucky Me_**

**_Chapter 037_**

* * *

I learned to completely ignore the blaring sirens and flashing red light that went off almost every other day in the mansion. Sure, it still woke me up, but at least I was used to it enough that I didn't fall out of bed clutching at my heart because I swore it stopped beating.

I also concluded I could roll over and go back to sleep, because for the most part, these things didn't concern me. I wasn't getting my hinny dragged out of bed to go kick some bad guysâ€™ behind, that was _their_ job.

As I rolled over to go back to sleep as I normally did in these cases, something unexpected happenedâ€"they changed the freakin' rules on me!

"Kookie, get dressed, we have to report to the Blackbird in two minutes." And that was all Mr. Warren said before running back out of my room. I turned to look at the open door and let my head hit the pillow. Maybe if I didn't show up, they'd get the hint that I was just _dreaming_ Mr. Warren came to get me.

But what happened next made me spring from my bed (actually stagger) and search around for that stretchy black and red thing they had the nerve to call clothes.

/_Kerry, this is no time for your antics, get here. __**Now**_./

Okay, I could trick myself into believing I was hallucinating, but someone _shouting_ in my brain? That's a bit hard to fake, even living in this place for so long. Without thinking I started to change until I heard a noise from the hall once they cut the sirens off.

"And people usually have to pay for a strip show." Bobby-_pervert_ commented as he stood there in the _doorway_ watching me. My hands first went to protect whatever was exposed (which was nothing, but come on, who wouldn't be paranoid?) and then I realized he hadn't seen anything. My hands started to search for something to throw at his head.

Something _heavy_.

"Get out of here you pervert!" I screamed, ducked into my closet, and only left the door ajar. I didn't want to give him a peep show, but there was no other light save for the small source from the hallway.

"You're the one leaving her door open on the _menâ€™s_ wing, babe."

"You're the one looking in, perv."

After quickly stumbling around in my closet and nearly breaking my head on several things, I got out of the closet fully (ha-ha) dressed in my thong with sleeves (no, it wasn't really a thong, but it might as well have been).

"Not a morning person?" Bobby-Pervert questioned as I 'escorted' me down to the plane.

"Not a _Bobby_ person."

"Ouch, Kookie, you're starting to hurt my feelings." Oh darn, I was _just_ starting to? And this suit was hurting my fragile modesty! So we both had hurts. "But then again, you can't hurt much but yourself in that outfit."

I stopped dead in my tracks, and that _child_ started to whistle but kept on walking. _Scott_ pushed me forward a few seconds later, but I was still in shock.

Even though _Robert_ said that as an insult, I wondered if he realized he just _agreed_ with me on something. It was tragic that someone finally agreed with me about the uniform, and it was _him._

Sheesh, what a life.

* * *

I didnâ€™t know who's more twisted, them for doing this or us for being here at four in the morning trying to stop them. I mean, come _on_, they could have waited until it was daylight or _something_. But _noooo_, that would have been bad strategy according to the Fearless Guidance Counselor of all that was Good Strategy otherwise called Cyclops. I yawned for the fifth time in about two minutes and felt yet again an elbow jab to my side.

"Will you _stop_ that?" I hissed at Bobby-Jerk, who _somehow_ I got stuck beside. According to the Almighty Leader _Scott_, I was being brought on real missions to gain field experience, but I was supposed to stay in the plane. How the heck was I supposed to get field experience without ever being in the field?

I was to listen and watch the individual com-links and cam-links to see where everyone was, and what everyone was doing. Under no circumstances was I to ever leave the plane. _Ever_. So if the stupid thing was to catch fire I would be a fried turkey.

"_Stop_ falling asleep and I might," Bobby-Jerk remarked, and I felt like jabbing him. Then I _did_ jab him, and before it was elevated into a slap-scream-sissy fight, Wolverine (I was told not to call anyone mister or miss when in uniform and to always call them by their code names, no wonder some of these people had identity problems) growled at both of us. I wonder who spit in his coffee, oh wait; it's _four_ in the morning! _No_ one was pleasant at this time, and _some_ were just more annoying than they normal, not mentioning any names, _Bobby_!

"Would you two grow up?" Mr. War-I mean, _Angel_ (a guy named angel, how very weird, but then again the big white wings were too) griped at us. Bobby-Jerk kicked the back of his seat. "Robert." And Bobby-Big-Baby stuck out his tongue at the back of Angel's seat.

I smirked at him, "I get in trouble for doing that, so you need to set a good example for your student."

"You're not in school uniform, so I don't have to be any kind of example."

"That's a surprise." He gave me this 'whatever' look and rolled his eyes.

* * *

I was about to fall asleep if it hadn't been for the cursing from Mr. Jean-Paul's com-link. I guess someone annoyed him too much. _Sco_-er, Cyclops was barking off random things that I guess meant something if you were there, but _I_ was stuck on the plane. And _I_ was wondering why on Earth _I_ had to get into this skin tight bathing suit with sleeves if I was going to _sit_ in a plane and not be allowed to move.

I _really_ didn't understand these people (I kinda liked it that way!).

By the time they _finally_ got back, I had sung ever Disney song I could think of, and doodled all over the clipboard I was to be taking notes on or some stuff like that.

"That was fun," Bobby-Jerk grumbled, oh wait, _Iceman_-Jerk grumbled. Had to remember to use those codenames!

"Knock it off, Robert." _Waaiit,_ why did I have to use codenames if they didn't? I guessed it's that seniority line again. "We got the information we wanted."

They got information by beating the life out of people? Oh that's ethical. I thought Xavier's School was all about tolerance but I think that was a cover up because 'Xavier's School of Bad Guy Behind Kicking' was too long to fit on the plaque.

"I hope you found something beneficial out of this excursion, Miss Blyt." Dr. Hank piped up. This guy was nice but so unnatural. I didn't think he slept all week and then he's _happy_ all the time. What kind of stuff was he creating in that lab?

And could I have some?

"The next destination will be this X-Ranch," _Sco_-uh, _Cyc_-_that guy_ (!) said.

"All right! Time for some _ladies_!"

"On their back," Nightcrawler added in a disgusted tone while wrinkling his nose. I remained quiet; I was kind of hoping they'd forget I was here. But another question hit me over the head: why was I stuck on a plane full of guys? Mrs. Jean said she was investigating some other leads and I should follow Cyclops around to learn from him.

Whatever she meant I didnâ€™t know, but anything to keep me out of school was reason enough for me.

But honestly, I was here with Angel, Cyclops, Mr. Jean-Paul (Northstare? I had _no_ clue), Dr. Hank, Nightcrawler, and Ice_boy_. Then there was me. Little itty bitty _female_ me. And after that bought with Kenney I was a little uneasy. It didn't bother me before because I wasn't really awake before (it was _four_ in the morning!).

"No. We will go later, right now, we need to get Blyt and Iceman back for school."

I could have just growled and groaned at the same time if I wasn't busy rolling my eyes and hitting my head with the clipboard in my hands. This bites! Ofcourse_,_ _Scott_ would remember a little thing like _school_ and put it before saving the world.

What a goody-two-shoes! And he wanted me to be _his_ kid? _Legally_? Right!

* * *

School went by with me falling asleep in Mr. Drake's class (if he said _anything_ to me, I would have hit him upside the head with a desk). Finally back at the mansion, I headed for my beloved bed; I didnâ€™t spend enough time with it nowadays if you asked me. But before I got there I was called down again, and Professor Xavier told me to get ready and to be at the runway in five minutes or I'd be left behind.

And that would make me want to go faster becauseâ€¦?

He must have picked up on my thoughts because he was about to go into another lecture about why I was here, and yadda yadda yadda. I smiled and said I wouldn't make it to the plane in time if I didn't get uniformed right away.

Professor looked like a mad Professor, but shook his head with a half smile and shoed me away.

So there I was _back_ into my little uniform and _back_ on the plane. But this time there were fewer people. Mr. Kurt, _Bobby_-jerk (in a white tux), Mr. Jean-Paul, and Mr. Warren were (including me) on this trip.

"What's with the sweat pants?" Mr. Playboy-Wanna-Be Bobby-Jerk asked.

"If all I'm doin' is sitting around, then I'm going to at least be comfortable." Mr. Kurt smiled, and 'bamfed' to his seat and I took mine. This was going to be fun. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Midwest."

_What_?

* * *

"What's with the _flock_?" Oh joy, another happy person to add to the ranks. This chick/barely clad woman (she made my outfit look _conservative_!) came fussing on the plane. Bobby, the _perverted, immoral, and idiotic_, smiled and popped a smart aleck remark over her words. She glared at him, and Mr. Warren shook his head and grumbled something about smart mules (I didn't say the other word!).

"Another happy camper let me break out the welcome banner." Bobby-the-_idiot _teased. Snake womanâ€™s home just got blown to kingdom come for some reason. Something about a church group or something, I didnâ€™t know really, I was too busy watching the house going up in flames.

She was the sole survivor.

But Bobby-_jerk_ got to have a "good time" with her before the attack. And I got to hear it all. Oh yeah for me!

_Gross_!

Was this a business or pleasure trip? And why was I forced to _listen_ to it!

"Clam it up, kids." Mr. Warren ordered, and I tried to hide. Wasn't doing too well either, because Snake chick sat right beside me after I buckled in.

"If you don't have anywhere to go, Stacey, you're more than welcomed to come back with us to Xavier's." _That_ brought about a lovely shout fest of its own, and it was all one sided. Basically she said sheâ€™d go.

Half-way back (I was _so_ tired) Snake chick looked over at me and asked, "So is he your old man or something?"

I gave my best ice glare, "No."

She made a face at me that clearly stated 'well ex-_cuse_ me!'.

I flinched. I didn't need another not friendly person after me. So I nervously smiled, and continued, "No he's not. We just sort of have the same-uh, gift?"

She just nodded and I sighed and shook my head. This was _so_ pointless.

"Hey, Kookie, let me introduce you to someone _very_ interesting." Bobby-Jerk popped over the top of the seat like an annoying two-year-old on an eight hour flight. Yeah, I _knew_ he knew her _extremely_ well already, and I was trying to find it in my heart to not hit him like I did the other pervert and feel sorry for this, uh, Stecky? At the same time. "Stacey 'X' this is Kookie 'D'."

"We've met," I smirked and kicked the seat (_hard_) in front of me (the one he peeking over).

Bobby-Jerk moaned and slid down his seat, apparently I kicked him a bit too hard in hisâ€"stomach (ha-ha, I bet you thought I was going to say something else)!

"Girl with attitude," Stacey observed, "Maybe you aren't so bad after all, kid."

Kid? _Kid_? Gah! She called me a _kid_!

I was probably going to get grounded for that little kick and she was calling me a _kid_?

But then again only kids _got_ grounded. Or adults who still acted like a kid.

* * *

It was Wednesday and if I heard one more remark about being a prostitute or earning a living on their back I was going to need to get tested for STD's. Stacey was okay, as long as you didn't listen to her and her I'm-woman,-hear-me-brag speeches and screams. All you had to do was look at her and she'd start being all defensive.

I was _so_ glad I lived on the _other_ side of the house, and not the women's side. Though I must admit their bathrooms were _much_ cleaner. I swear I saw someone's boxer shorts crawl across the floor one night.

Back in the safety of my room, I locked my door and looked around for something to do. My study session with Bobby-Pervert, Adrian, and Chris was done and I needed some 'Kookie' time before I got burnt.

Not to mention, at the end of the week I had to give my decision on whether I wanted to be part of the 'Summer's clan' or not. It was a _huge_ choice to make.

The distraction I found was in the boxes my sister left me. It was better than homework at least.

After ripping the tape off, and opening up one of them, I wished I left it shut.

* * *

"This is a dangerous place to meet." _He_ must have had a radar on me or something, no matter where I was, _he_ found me. I was walking along the shore of the lake when _he_ appeared out of the forest like an elf or something (not like Mr. Kurt who was called Fuzzy Elf, but that's beside the point).

"Then don't come down here," I replied, not having any real get-away-or-I'll-throw-you-in-the-lake kind of sound to my words, _he_ started to follow me. "And it's not like I asked you to meet me here anyway. And how on _earth_ did you find me?"

"Daisy." _He_ shrugged, standing right beside me. After that almost-kiss thing, I wasn't as relaxed around him as I once had been, it was more like a one-sided tension. What a not nice guy to let a girl suffer like this (what a selfish girl to think up a thought like that)!

"You were talking to _Daisy_?" What a playboy, he sure didnâ€™t act like it most of the time. And I was _not_ jealous. I was _not_. I wasn't jealous about any of the girls who were drooling after him at school either. He was a fashion trend that would go out of style next season.

"Don't sound so amazed that I talk to her," _he_ seemed to think about it, then tacked on, "Or so jealous."

"Oh, don't _even_ start that again!" I picked up my pace to try to get away from him (but come on, who would really wanted to-Oh my sanity-did I just think that?). Not to mention the last time we got on the subject of jealousy, we almostâ€"but I didnâ€™t want to think about that! It had been a distraction long enough! _Heâ€™s_ been a distraction long enough!

"Okay then, let's talk about Kenney." I froze in my tracks; I felt an internal shake start to rattle my bones. Mrs. Jean was the only one who knew anything about that, so how did he..? "What did he do to you, Kerry?"

_He_ used my real name, not Kookie (which I figured was my permanent name whether I liked it or not, but it couldâ€™ve been _so_ much worse) that meant he was serious. This was when I felt _extremely_ uncomfortable being alone with _him_, even if it was _him_, it was a _guy_ and the last two times I was alone with a guyâ€"they wanted to touch. One I minded a _great_ deal, the other one not so much, but it didn't mean I wanted to talk about it.

"What are you talking about?" I tried to play it off, but I wasnâ€™t an actress.

"People talk. Guys talk at school. I know he tried to pull something with you. Heâ€™d been bragging about it right before Homecoming. I want to know what it was." _He_ did that dangerous thing people do when they are dead serious; they drop their voices as low as they could. It wasn't like the knee-melting one, it was the freaky tone.

"Why should I? It's not like you're going to do anything about it." Like I was going to be nice to this guy at this moment.

After about two seconds with no response, I didn't hear him say anything or even move. I looked over my shoulder to see him gazing at the lake. I normally didnâ€™t pay attention, but with the sun going down behind him, who couldn't help but notice _he_ looked good. I didnâ€™t mean the typical watch-the-guy-walk-by type good; I was talking about Godiva chocolate type good. And I felt myself blush at thinking about _him_ in that way.

"You really think I'm that much of a wimp?" He asked, never looking at me.

There was no way to answer that question honestly and still keep _him_ as a friend, but then, again, we had other little fights. The one when he said I didn't have a heart. And that's when it hit me; I had to answer a not-safe-to-answer question with another not-safe-to-answer question!

"You really think I'm that heartless?" _His_ head snapped around so fast that I thought it was going to come off his shoulders and roll away.

One point for the heartless Kerry-Kookie.

"You never say my name," Well, that was an unexpected change of subject.

"Yeah, I do." I started to walk closer without really thinking about it. "I say it to _you_ whenever _you_ are around."

"Not when we're alone like this." I felt that stupid blush start to creep up my face. It was the way he said 'alone' that made me do it! I swear! "Don't start being all weird or anything, it's just an observation."

"How observant of you?" I was such a _moron_. One little smile and my brain was Kookie Dough, man! This was going to be annoying if it wasn't in some small insignificant way-enjoyable.

_He_ smiled. I did _not_ need him to do that. I was in trouble

"Forget it," he came to where I stood, looking at the lake. I sat down on the closest rock, and he did the same (different rock though, okay, duh?). "Why are you out here?"

"Thinking."

"About me?" _He_ smiled a shy smile as he picked at the sand.

"Oh yeah, right." I shook my head, "I was thinking about Da-" Oh great, I was about to cry. "About someone back home."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Why does everyone _ask_ that?" I started to rant. Anything to prevent me from crying. "If I _wanted_ to talk about it, I'd talk about it."

"Whoa Whoa! Didn't mean to get you stirred up!" _He_ cleared his throat and semi-switched topics, "Have you thought about Jean and Scott's offer any?"

"Yeah," Now it was _my_ turn to pick at the sand. I was probably going to have half the beach in my jeans (you know how sand was, you touch it and it like _grew_ on you for the next two days). "I don't know. I mean they told me that if I didn't, the state would most likely take me away, and I'd be stuck in an orphanage and all. And I guess it wouldn't be such a big deal because my _mother_ made it obvious she doesn't want me, but I still feel like I would be-"

_Oh_! He's tricky! He almost got me to talk about the thing I didn't want to talk about (one of the many things I didn't want to talk about).

"Would be-? What?" _He_ prodded, but I had had enough. When put to the test, _run_ (or fly if you were like me and had wings). So I shrugged him off and jumped to my feet and took to the air. He shouted my names a few times, but I flew faster every time he said it.

I couldn't tell him because he couldn't understand.

* * *

"He thought I was _what_?" Adrian about busted my ear drums.

"Gay. He thought you were gay." I repeated, trying to scoot further away from him in the bus seat we shared (yes, we got demoted to the bus). Daisy-Mae tilted her head to the side, and Chris was Chris and busted out laughing. I thought he was going to wet his pants.

"She can be mini-Scott, and you can be mini-Jean-Paul!" Chris got out between fits of laughter.

"Shut up!" Adrian barked, rising up in his seat as if he was going to hit the other boy. "I am _not_."

"I know!" I tried to keep him from hurting me, too. It wasn't like I thought he was _funny_ or anything, just kinda complacent. "Sit down, people are starting to stare."

Adrian, for his part, glowered and thumped down into the poorly padded seat. "I'm going to _prove_ to him I'm not gay."

I would _never_ have guessed the way he was going to do it either.

Woe to me.

Literally!


	38. Final Choice

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 038  
**

He _kissed _me!

I couldn't believe that _jerk_ did that to _me_ and in front of all those people!

I-I couldn't _do_ anything! All I was able to do was stare at him as he smirked, and then the _other_ jerk. Oh man…what was going through that guy's _head!_? I mean I didn't even have time to _think_ about what I was going to do or say until it came out of my mouth. _Evilly._

"I. Am. Going. To. _Kill. _You." Since we were already standing up in the cafeteria, at the table we usually sat, and it took all of two seconds for _Adrian_ to realize I was serious. Another tick and he was running like death was after him because I was about to catch and beat him into a pulp (just to make Mr. Logan proud!).

He took off down the hall, and you can bet I followed him. I didn't know what I was going to do when I caught up with him, well, besides a _lot_ of bodily harm. But before that could happen I heard Mr. Dudley-Do-Right Drake yell after us.

"You two, to the principal's office. _Now_."

My mouth dropped, he was _not_ doing this to me! "You're kidding!"

"Yeah, come on, Bobby, it was just a joke."

I shot a look over my shoulder that clearly said 'I'm-not-done-with-you-until-you-are-six-feet-under' and he must have understood because he backed away more.

"Kids," There's that _word_ again! "I got to do the whole teacher thing, I can't let you go around Frenching ever girl in school, now can I?"

"It was just _her_."

Again, a hard glare in Adrian's direction.

"I'll get grounded for this, Bobby!" I whined.

"You're getting grounded for kicking me in the stomach." He smirked and then grabbed me by the arm, and Adrian's with the other hand and dragged us to the principal's office.

I was so dead after this!

* * *

"Why were you doing that anyway?" _Scott_ asked as I left the principal's office. Apparently he was my guardian (him and Mrs. Jean of course, it's nice to know this information) and I had spent the last three hours hearing lectures from everyone who wanted to talk or rant. Adrian was banned from the next football game and I was given in school suspension, so I didn't have to go to my classes for a day.

Oh, pun-_ish_-ment.

Like suspension was anything bad!

"I didn't do anything! _He_ just did it!" I defended. _Scott_ gave me a look (at least I think he did, couldn't tell with the sunglasses). He was taking me back to the mansion early so I didn't arrested for homicide on the bus because Adrian was going to on the bus as well.

I wasn't going to _kill_ him, only rough him up a bit (maybe a few broken bones).

"And so you were going to chase him down and beat him up about it?" I didn't even realize _Scott_ opened the door to the car until after I got in. I guess that's because I didn't pay attention to details much, but for a moment it made me remember the only other man who ever opened the door to the car for me. I didn't want to think about it though, nothing but tears down that road.

"Sure. Why not? That's what you've been teaching me isn't it?" After pulling away from the school, he asked what _that_ was supposed to mean. "You're teaching me that if someone doesn't agree with my point of view or does something I don't like, that I have a right to find them and beat them into submission, right?" Okay, so I was legit at the beginning, but as I continued to go, I got more and more sarcastic.

_Scott_ for his part didn't even spare me a side glance, but the way he gripped his steering wheel, with his knuckles going all white gave me a fairly good idea I had ticked him off. Apparently that _wasn't_ what they'd been teaching me, or so _Scott_ thought. But that was _Scott_ and this was Kookie, or Kerry, or Blyt-how 'bout I just call myself Multiple Personality Disorder Girl? MPD Girl! That would make the bad guys stop and think.

But still not as much as the whole 'Phoenix' thing. I didn't think Mrs. Jean was from Arizona. I was rambling because I didn't want to talk or think.

_Finally_ _Scott_ decided to talk to me, but he was in I-am-a-ticked-off-leader mood, and his words were clear, cut, and boring.

"We have been teaching you how to use your gifts," to beat up on bad guys, got it. "To make the world a better place," in a world that agreed with _their_ point of view, "by learning and living with acceptance." Meaning that we are the ones that win, therefore we were right and the world had to listen to us.

"Gotcha," I sassed off again, and _Scott_ didn't take too kindly to _that_ (I was suddenly talking like a bumpkin from Smallville! _Ah_!)

"Why are you so difficult lately?"

You want I should make a list? Or just the top ten reasons? Come _on_! I was under stress, and _you_, reminded me of my Dad. I didn't want you, _Scott_, to remind me of him, because that meant I would want to be adopted by you and your perfect wife, and I'd forget my _real_ dad.

Did I just think all of that? I told myself I wouldn't think about it!

"I'm a teenager," I answered, but not with the venom of my previous words. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't fly away from anyone now. And the person who _would_ understand and wanted to know about what was going inside my head (without going _inside_ my head) was back at the PSSC.

"You are more mature than most teens we get at the mansion." He must not know a lot of teens then, I could pitch a drama fit with the best of them. "That's half the reason you were put in charge of the new students."

Not because I was the only sap who said yes and didn't want to find out how the robots worked? Or because I didn't throw things at anyone's head when they woke me up at _four_ in the stinkin' _morning_ to go globe hopping? Sheesh, I was in a rotten mood.

"Maybe I should just let the state take me." I _really_ meant to grumble that into my hand where he could hear but not understand what I said…oops. No such luck.

"_What_?" _Scott_ about slammed on the brakes (I think we were taking the scenic route back to the mansion because we would have been there by now!).

Somewhere, something inside of me finally snapped, but I didn't fly off into a rage, instead I brought my knees to my chest (yes, stuffed in that little car) and started to cry my heart out. I didn't see this coming! And there was no person to hold me until I was done. I hated crying in front of people.

Especially without a reason, though I did have a pretty good reason.

Between my mental fussing and lack of fighting the depression, _Scott_ stopped the car, got out, came around to my side, opened the door, and somehow I ended up crying into his shirt. I didn't think he was this showy. I didn't think he would let me do this. _Scott_ wasn't my _him_, and it was _him _who I wanted to talk to.

"What's wrong?" _Scott_ sounded worried, as if he had done something wrong. Technically he didn't, but I wanted to blame him. What right did he have to want to take the place of my _real_ Dad? It was hard to accept my mother's declaration of indifference, but I knew my Dad would have loved me still. I knew because he said he always would. I would always love my Dad, but no one understood, because no one realized that I had forgotten until now.

I had completely forgotten about it.

* * *

"I know chicks are supposed to have mood swings, but from romance, to anger, to tears?" Adam sounded astonished, and I was pretending to be asleep when the other guys were discussing it. Again, they were walking around on eggshells afraid I would start crying again.

That's why I really hated crying in front of people. They seem to _never_ forget it!

I never told _Scott_ what I was blubbering about, and that was how it was going to say.

Mrs. Jean stopped by to ask if I wanted to talk about it. My natural reaction was try to push the thoughts into other ones, like she taught me, and be leery of the woman who could completely erase my mind or invade my head at her convenience. So I just told her it was personal, and did the whole cold shoulder thing.

_He_ was smart enough to stay away from me. I was ticked off at him as it was for what he pulled at school. Because of _him_ I got into huge trouble, and ended up crying in front of _Scott_. The one that acted like nothing should affect a leader. And some great leader I was turning out to be.

They were going to have me on Prosac before tomorrow, I just knew it!

"Man, shut up." Was _Chris'_ response, if I wasn't pretending _not_ to be listening, I would have asked him if he was sick or something. He actually _defended_ me! Shock, gasp, disbelief! "Didn't you ever have a bad day?"

Or a bad year?

"Yeah, but she's _always_ in an unstable, weird mood." That's it. Adam had just gone down in my book. "But that's what makes her, her. She's just normally not _that_ bad." Okay, so not as far down.

"Who wouldn't go wacky here? Especially with her _mom,_" Adrian piped in. I wished he would have just kept quiet. "But her sister's okay."

"Break it up, guys!" Bobby-Jerk ordered, "Have your _Jerry Springer_ time somewhere else."

I'd have to thank that Jerk for it later, whenever I decided to talk to anyone again.

* * *

"Today is the _day_." Daisy-Mae shouted, slamming open my door.

_Never_ slam open a door when the person in the room was _sleeping_. I fell out of bed, screamed, and hit my head in under two seconds (that's a record for me!). And when my eyes stopped spinning in my head, I gave her a death glare, "Don't _ever_ do that again!"

"Oh, it speaks!" D-M acted all astonished as she shook her head and plopped down on my bed as I clambered up to my feet. "You've been so quiet the last few past days, Ah thought that you were taken over by a brain sucker and were nothing more than a hollow shell."

I raised an eyebrow in complete question to what the _heck_ she was talking about; D-M only shrugged and said it was a late night freak show all night on channel _Horror_.

"So you spent the night with Chris?" And I swear I was _joking, _but the girl blushed and stuttered out a no. This was _so_ worth investigating. "And what is today and why are you in here?"

"_Because_!" She got up and started the dramatic acting bit again, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life!"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, it's Friday, and it's time to pick state or Summers."

"Oh, that." I went _back_ into my closet, and started to get dressed (which mostly consisted of tank tops that I had to do this funny wiggle into, wiggle out of thing to get them on thanks to my wings). And jeans, of course I wasn't going to go marching around in tank top and underwear. I lived on the guy's wing, _they_ might feel comfortable walking around in boxers, but I was still a girl and was still modest (except in that uniform).

"So, are you packing or are you staying?" D-M seemed serious about this.

Hello! Defensive mechanisms!

"Oh come on! This is my way _out_ of here! Who would want to hang around a place like this when I could live in a place full of people my age?" I kept back the comment of 'oh, wait, I already do'.

"You can_not_ be serious!" She about tackled me after I got out of the closet. "You _can't_ leave!"

"Of course I can't! You got me in a choke hold and I can't even breathe!" I tried to get out of her monster embrace, which was more like she was crushing my stomach in because she was holding on to it so tight.

"And you have school!"

_That_ seemed to snap her out of her convince-Kerry-to-stay death crush.

"Oh right! Ah'm going to be late!" Daisy-Mae got up and ran to the door, but as she was leaving she shouted, "Don't leave!"

It took a moment to shake off that thought, and I decided it was better not to compare myself and D-M. We were two totally different people. And as for the whole adoption issue?

I had made up my mind.

As I was leaving my room, I saw _him_ standing cross armed, leaned against the door leading to the stairwell. I looked at him and about passed out, I thought for sure he'd be gone by now. He didn't try to hide his face or his eyes, have mercy, his eyes were _not_ happy.

"Have fun, Kerry." And he was gone. Not another word.

I guess he heard my teasing D-M about leaving.

* * *

We had been at Paul's office for over an hour and _finally_ got to see the annoying little man. Surprise of surprises, my mother was there (no Darcy) and so was her two-bit-hick lawyer (I was not upset-_riiiiight_). She barely gave me a passing glance as I sat down with Paul. The Summers' said they would wait outside, but knowing Mrs. Jean she'd be listening in anyway.

"We are here to discuss whether or not Mrs. D'mon is going to take the proposition offered by the guardians of her daughter." Paul started; I didn't mister him because he was too mean to deserve it. My mom bristled when the word _daughter_ was used. Was she that hateful she refused to recognize that I was part of her?

_Argh_! This woman was _so_ on my nerves! Especially since it was so close to the anniversary—it was right after—No! I couldn't let her win by wimping out at the finish line! I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing my heart break again.

"Mrs. D'mon has agreed that despite the charges, she will put Kerry up for adoption. She has expressed no concern over what happens to the child from there." I was really getting sick of being called _kid_ and _child_.

"As we have discussed, there are those who are not so closed minded that are willing to care for the young lady, if her biological mother no longer wants to be there for her." _Whoa_, go Paul! Elegant, and yet just as much a stab as the best of them!

"There is no need to be on unfriendly terms." Oh sure, she's just ditching me. Heck, where was the cake and the wine? Let's celebrate!

"Of course not," Paul added dryly, this guy was turning into my most favorite lawyer I had ever met!

He's the _only_ lawyer I'd ever met, but let's disregard that fact for right now.

"As requested, Mrs. D'mon will have her few minutes alone with Kerry."

_Huh_? _Why_? She could be packin' a pistol!

"Of course."

They left and left me with psycho woman extreme. She was my mom, but she was also the one person who I never thought I would have _not_ wanted to be alone with in a room.

We sat in silence, and she never looked at me. I wouldn't look at her, I was staring at the door where the lawyers went out, and my jaw was still hung open. I turned my eyes to her first, and then my whole body.

It felt _so_ weird, "So, uh," and that was all I got out before she cut me a look.

"Don't talk." and Kerry shut it up at that command. "This is _my_ time to tell you some things."

I was going to die and there were no witnesses.

"You probably hate me." With all the love in your voice right now? And your actions in the past? Nah, I still think the world of you, Mommy-dearest. "And I think you have every right. From now on we will be strangers, legally."

"I guess so," I replied, trying not to let my heart break too much while I was in front of her.

"I'm sorry, though, that this had to happen so close to your father's _death_."

Strike and crumble goes my heart. That's what I had forgotten, and I felt as if I betrayed him. I swore to myself I would never forget the day he died. It was two years ago and yet, it seemed so much longer.

"But it is done, and it is done for the best," she continued and then reached into her purse. I was ready to duck and roll, but instead of a gun (I was pessimistic about this conversation, what could I say). "This was something your dad had made a while ago; you were supposed to get it on your birthday, but since I won't know you _then_. I might as well give it to you now. But this is _not_ from me. This is from your _dad_." yeah yeah, I got it, you hate me. Don't worry, no one could mistake that.

She tossed me a small jewelry box. I didn't bother to open it; I didn't want to share any memories with _her_. Now that she wasn't mom, she was only Heather. I never dreamed this would ever happen. Who does?

"And as for your adoption. What would your _father_ think?" She questioned with a cruelty I thought only fairy tale step mothers were capable of having.

A knock on the door and then with the lawyers came back in.

I didn't have time to give any reaction to her last stab at me, so I ignored it.

Heather signed some papers, more legal babble was spoken, and I knew I made the right decision. Once Heather and her lawyer were gone, and it was only me and Paul, he looked at me with (dare I believe) sympathy and asked if I had come to an answer?

"Yeah, I know what I'm going to do."


	39. Halloween

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 039**

"Kookie Summers! How cute!" D-M couldn't be bouncier. She was thrilled I wasn't leaving, but didn't understand why I wanted to change my name as well. I couldn't really explain _why_ without being me. It wasn't that I didn't love my name, Kerry Michelle D'mon, it was a great name for me (I'd owned it for many years) it was that if I _kept _it, I would always be attached to _that_ woman who was no longer my mother.

It was my final break.

I was actually going to go for the state, just because I was sick of not being in control of my own life, of being a bossed around by everyone else. But then the thing my mo-_Heather_ was trying to hurt me with, only helped me in my decision.

What would my _Dad_ have said about this?

This wasn't what she thought I would interpret it as. She thought I was going to think about the adoption, but instead I thought about what _she_ was doing. If my Dad was still around, he'd have laughed so long and hard at her until his sides hurt because of what she thought was right.

My dad would have been for starting over.

To wipe the tears away, get back up, and fight harder. That was the way he viewed things in this life. If it didn't kill you, don't give it another opportunity to try. Conquer it.

So this was my way of doing it. By leaving my past life behind me, except my sister, Darcy, who hadn't done anything to me, I'd take her into this new life of mine even though the chances of seeing her again was very, _very_ slim.

"Yeah, Scott and Jean thought so, too."

"_Scott_ and _Jean_? Not Mr. Summers and Mrs. Jean? _Wow_! You _are_ feeling more at home with them!" D-M, again, went into her dramatics. "Why not call them mom and dad and get it over with?" She smirked.

I glared at her. "They are _legal_ parents. They are _not_ my parents."

"Fine. But when'd they okay the name change?"

"It's not legal, not yet; and won't be until right before Thanksgiving." When I told them I wanted to change my name, Jean insisted I start calling them by their first names, and drop the formality, but also to pick up their last name in place of my old one. Confusing, no?

I hadn't thought of any other name, really, so I started to think along the lines of 'Kookie' and so on. Kookie Summers sounded like a comic book character, a cheesy one at that. But I needed a _real_ name to go along with the _cutesy_ ones as someone labeled them.

"What about Rose? Then every one would think we were related or something!"

Oh, yeah, talk about going from the frying pan into the sugary sweet fire.

* * *

"Mr. Kurt?"

"Up here, _der_ _engel_." And sure enough, you look up and there hung a blue furry man with gold eyes looking back at you. It didn't' even freak me out anymore, I'd been here too long. The only time I jumped was when blue and fuzzy man did his stinky-teleportation thing, and I nearly gagged on the smell. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Once I was safely holding my nose, and ignoring his playful hurt look, "A bunch of people are going into New York to get Halloween costumes."

It was true, in a week or something, was Halloween and Mr. Warren said he already had to do a Worthington Industry party, and even though it would be mostly associates and people like that, we were all welcomed (forced) to go.

The grown-ups (remember, I was still a _kid_. What-ever!) said it would be good for us to get out and learn about life. I guess to see what kind of things people do when they were drunk? Or why the man dressed up like Santa was running around touching ever girl's behind asking if they were naughty or nice (yes, there were people dressed up like Santa Claus at Halloween, it's to confuse the _really_ young kids).

"You don't think this would be a fitting costume?" He asked opening his arms wide and striking a pose.

I smiled, "Nah, it's been done."

He smiled at that, "I'm glad, _der_ _engel_, you are feeling more relaxed in the mansion." Yeah right, they didn't know how hard I had to force myself to think of comments and smile. But as long as it kept them from asking the annoying 'do you want to talk about it' line, I'd do whatever it took.

Raising eyebrows, smirks, glares, and _that_ danged question were basic components of living in this household.

"So I guess you're not going?"

"No," Mr. Kurt showed me the book he was reading, the _Bible_. "I do not prefer _this_ holiday."

"What are you, some type of priest?" I was leaving to go to get jammed into the van when Mr. Kurt answered me.

"Yes." I cocked an eyebrow up and tipped my head to the side, but then I shrugged and left. "Kerry, wait." I sighed but stopped. He did the teleporting thing again, and I started to gag, oh like he couldn't have walked the ten feet to get to me and spare my nose!

"Yes?" I questioned, pinching my nose with my thumb and pointer finger of one hand.

"It is normal in the American culture to have a middle name, _ja_?"

I thought about for a second, shrugged and said I guessed so.

"Then I might suggest one for you, Nadja."

I rapidly blinked at him. I wasn't sure I could even pronounce it much less say it!

"Uh," I started but he cut me off.

"It is a name that means _hope_," he put a hand on my shoulder and shot me a toothy grin, "It is just a thought."

* * *

We're still at the mall and I was still bored.

The others invaded the stores like they were having a sale or something. The guys were actually taking longer than the girls, I thought about writing down this date to tell my grandkids I was apparently going to have. I should ask Mr. Bishop more about that, but I hadn't had monitor duty in quite some time so I had yet to have the opportunity to beg him.

"Look! I'm Kookie!" Bobby-Jerk leapt (I kid you not) out of a dressing room with a set of fake black wings strapped to his back, a towel around his waist, and proceeded to hop across the store. The clerks giggled (they were _all_ female, and didn't _know_ him therefore thought his insulting antics were funny).

"No way, Drake. The original's much fatter, and has a flatter chest."

"_Bad man_!" Was the only warning that D-M gave Chris before swinging a plastic scythe at him. She was going as a female death and she proceeded to attempt to attack Chris, well, until he threatened to give her a special shock treatment and fry her hair. Being the girly-girl she was, D-M stopped right away.

"What do _you_ think, Kookie?" Bobby-Jerk asked. I looked at him, completely bored to see him twirl around, showing off his outfit.

"Pedofile?" Mr. Warren asked as he, too, sat with one hand propped up holding up his chin.

"Don't worry, white feathers, you will always be my angel." Bobby-Jerk fake cooed and patted Mr. Warren on the head. Mr. Warren said if he ever touched him like that again, he'd have his hand rammed up in a very uncomfortable place.

"What are you going as?" D-M asked, plopping down on the floor near my feet.

"It's a secret."

"Go as a summa wrestler, you're already chubby enough for that," Chris sassed.

I smiled pleasantly, "All you need is a Domino's box around your face, 'cause it already looks like a pepperoni pizza."

"Play nice, children." Miss Oreo warned, "We still have the trip home."

"Put him on the roof."

"Strap her to the hood."

I really didn't like Chris.

* * *

I checked over my shoulder for the third time in two minutes. I never knew when any of the X-people were going to suddenly appear and give poor Kookie a heart attack. I had to know something so me and my information source were going on a little trip to the other side of the mall to have a little talk.

"Uh, the food court is the _other_ way," D-M (my information source) told me after I dragged us into _Bath and Body Works_. No wonder Mr. Logan stayed away from this place, my senses weren't half as strong as his and stunk to _me_ with all the different fragrances mixed and blended together. It was bad, but I tricked D-M into coming with me under the lie that we were going to go get something to eat.

"Okay, spill." I tried to use that authoritative voice _Scott_ insisted I use with my team. For her part, Daisy just looked at me like my head had shrunk and she didn't know how to tell me.

"Spill what?"

"What is going on between Chris and Bobby?" She grinned.

"Ah was wondering when you were going to ask about that. Well," she started, and I could tell Daisy had become one of the spokes on the gossip wheel from the way her hands went into motion. "Apparently they had a falling out when some big bad guy tried to rule the world or something," got to love use of technical terms, "Before that bad guy, Onsod, I think?"

"Onslaught?" Remember, I had no life in Acola? I was the freaky girl that was 'in to' mutants?

"You know Ah think that's it. _Anyway_, Chris was found out to be a," D-M looked around, and seemed to rethink something before continuing, "A _you_ _know_." A mutant, "before any of us and was brought to Xavier's to learn about his 'gifts'. While he was there, he and Bobby became buddy-buddy because Bobby's 'special talents' were much like Chris'. But then, Chris found out to have that—_blood_ _problem_." The Legacy Virus. This was sad; I no longer need an interrupter to understand this girl. "And was taken out of Xavier's.

"But Bobby said he'd always be there and blah blah blah." This was _her_ I swear! I wasn't blocking her out this time! "And he wasn't. Chris went through some rough times with having to go to all the clinics and stuff, even got his home blown _up_ by the FOH or something." I had to ignore the desire to strangle the girl. My _dad_ was part of the FOH and he didn't go around blowing things up. He was a builder, not a destroyer, but this wasn't part of the Chris/Bobby story. "While Chris was having all this trouble wherever he was living, he kept trying to get a hold of _them_ for support. But since they were busy saving the world and stuff, they never had time for him."

"So Chris felt betrayed?" Okay, stupid, that was a total _duh_ question. I was _such_ a genius.

"Yeah, actually he did. Felt like they only wanted him for his powers, but as soon as they found out he had that—_issue_ they were scared of him and wanted nothing more to do with him. It was Bobby though, who Chris resented the most because Bobby considered Chris his 'little buddy' and was real close to him and stuff." That explained the bad blood between those two. Even with the bad taste it left in my mouth and made me feel sick to my stomach, I could actually understand where Chris was coming from.

These people did tend to see mutants as either worth their time or not. At least that was what I picked up. It's okay to _mingle_ with humans, but it was only okay as long as the distinction of X-gene was preserved. I guess this was one of those attitudes I had to get checked out by the Professor.

I would bring it up to Mrs. Jean, I mean Jean, Jean, _Jean_. _No _longer able to call her Mrs. anything anymore. Anyway, I was going to get out of the store and avoid _Jean_ at all costs when I had a different point of view from the group, she seemed to have this love of messing with people's minds when it suited her.

Yup, I didn't like telepaths.

I didn't like Chris, and I didn't like telepaths.

* * *

"That wasn't your first kiss was it?" HE asked because the other two hadn't made it into the 'study' session yet. I was having another test and math, and I needed to pass at least _one _test before report cards came out and have a chunky red _F_ on it.

"No, of course not!" I lied. Yeah, it was my first, but it wasn't like I asked for it!

"You're lying."

Dang, he was getting to know me too well.

"No, I'm not. Why would I lie about something like that?"

"Because you're _sixteen_ and should have been kissed before?" _He_ smirked, and I started to feel uneasy.

"Just because I don't attack anything male that walks on two legs doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me you know." I started to fidget with the corners of the pages of the book and wondering what on earth was taking the other guys _so_ long to get their persons in this room.

"It's not that," he waved off my comment, "it's that it should have been done differently."

"Well, it's a bit too late to change it," I grumbled, tapped my pencil on the table top, and felt the embarrassment start to heat up my cheeks. I didn't ask to be lip locked in the middle of the cafeteria, thankyouverymuch. I hadn't been able to live it down yet and now I was forced to discuss it.

"You could always forget it; maybe replace the memory with a better one." _He_ was being coy again. I didn't like him being coy; it usually resulted in my brain turning into mush. Then he added a smile, and bye-bye brain. No studying for Kookie, her mind was somewhere in Japan watching anime.

"Who says that I want to?" I quipped, pretending not to be unnerved while he was unnerving me. And the fact that he did the whole trace-my-jaw-with-his-fingertips thing didn't help my mental befuddlement.

"I say." _He_ leaned closer, and those butterflies revived and started their mating ritual in my stomach. The closer _he_ came, the more butterflies with feather dusters developed in my body.

"Maybe I don't want to listen to you." I couldn't _believe_ I whispered that, _and_ I felt my face start to go red from—well, from _something_. I didn't know! I didn't have a little book of emotions I could what I was feeling!

"_MM_mm." Was his reply, and I could feel his breath on my lips. If I had any sense left at that time, Cupid decided to take a chainsaw to it, and hid its remains under emotion and touching. I was light headed, and just as I started to close my eyes, following his example…"If that's the way you feel."

_He pulled back_!

I snapped myself out of my stupor with the mood shattered and dissolved.

"_Jerk_!" I screeched.

He smirked and tugged his eyebrows up once in tease.

That's when the other two came in, and the studying started. I glared at him the whole session, and for his part he only winked at me, making me even _more_ upset.

Fine. I'd remember that. Let's see if I fall for his little trick again!

What a tease! And a _jerk_! _Argh_!

_Mondo-huge-unbelievable **jerk**_!

* * *

"Look at me! All Ah need is a victim." This was what Chris did to the innocent; he took their souls and painted them black.

She had on a black dress and the plastic scythe in one of her hands. Its blade was spotted with red paint to represent blood. Daisy came prancing into my room, she said she didn't care that many people wouldn't get it; we were a bunch of kids anyway.

I was _not_ a kid!

"Aren't you ready?" D-M asked, probably noticing my _lack_ of costume. But what the hey, why on earth get ready three hours before the party thing? "You know it takes an hour to get to Warren's place."

"Yeah yeah," I waved her off, and used the excuse I had to get dressed to get rid of her. My costume wasn't something I picked because I thought it was the best suited for me. It was because I loved the movie, and more recently because _he_ did something _dumb_ like pretending to want to kiss me and then pulled away!

Revenge was so _very_ sweet.

* * *

"_Wow,_" Was the first reaction I got and it came from Adam as I walked out to the cars. Everyone else was already gone, Mr. Warren wanted to go via limo, and took pity on me and some of the others by avoiding being cramped in the cool looking sardine can on wheels. "You look-well, _wow._"

"Someone get him some water quick," Chris commented dryly, not even bothering to look at me at first, but when he did, he's jaw hit the floor board. It must be something about a pink sequined dress, fancy hair, make-up, and a sash with 'Miss Congeniality' written across that got guys' attention (either that or the slit that goes from floor to the top of my thigh, and let me not forget the black, knee-high combat boots).

"Good pick, Kerry." Mr. Warren smiled, as the car started to go. D-M twisted some of the hair on Chris' arm and reminded him how rude it was to stare. This was going to be good. I had to sacrifice myself to bring _him_ pain, and by the end of the night, he was _so_ going to regret teasing me!

* * *

"You look awesome." Ah _ha_! We'd been at the party for a few hours, and it was bridging on midnight when he finally decided to remember me! Not like I wanted him to or anything, I just wanted to see him sweat. I'd enjoyed seeing him get angry with every old fart I had to beat off with D-M's scythe (not really, but they _were_ starting to touch). The natural reaction to any of the males in the 'X' group was to raise eyebrows (trademark number one) and then to play it off.

As if their minds hadn't hit the gutter.

I was not _that_ self-centered, but this was revenge, and I worked _hard_ on trying to get the reaction I wanted. I wanted my revenge to be something he wouldn't forget, because one thing he _could_ forget was ever tricking me again!

"I know," I replied. I was out on the balcony to get away from the feel-good-touchy people. "And you look, well, _okay_."

_He_ smirked. "I can tell, this is payback isn't it?"

I gave a fake laugh, "The world does _not_ revolve around you."

"No, but yours does."

I turned, completely prepared to through him off the top of the building for saying something as stupid as all that. All HE did was walk closer and say that he just got another point.

He was really begging to be hurt.

"That's not a very becoming face, not in _that_ dress at least." AH! Was he still insulting me? What a complete and utter jerk! Some great leader I was going to be having my own revenge thrown back into my face! _Hmmph_!

"Then don't look."

"It's hard to ignore you, but dressed like _that_." He came _really_ close, but my back was turned to him. No _way_ was he going to get anymore ha-ha-I-got-Kookie moments to add to his odd little mind. "It's impossible."

Okay, so what, he was rude to me and _now_ he was charming? What _gives_?

"Save your sweet talk for someone else," I remarked snidely, in the Summers-I-rule voice.

"Who?"

"The girls at school who actually think you're cute? You know the ones I mean," I looked at him as he leaned against the railing, "the ones who don't really _know_ you."

"Hm, you have to lose that sense of humor if you're going to be a Summers, you know."

Idiot.

"I'm glad you're not leaving," his voice suddenly dropped into the serious tone. "I honestly thought you _were_ going to leave." And then, the sweet seriousness of his voice changed into the joking ha-ha-I-almost-got-you-to-believe-it vibe to it, "Besides, I didn't think you'd want to leave before you getting what you so badly want from me."

Silence? "What's that?"

He only smirked.

I guess he's not as dumb as I thought, don't get me wrong he still not the brightest light bulb that was ever plugged in, but he knew when to zip the lip.

"Hey you two! You better get back in here before you freeze to death!" D-M shouted, "Not to mention all the rumors people will start!"

"After you," he acknowledged politely, making a sweeping gesture with his hands.

I wasn't done with him yet. My revenge was still going to find a way to come true!

* * *

"You _witch_!" Chris' scream (and the slamming of my door) woke me up from where I had fallen asleep pretending to do homework on Saturday.

"What?" _not_ the best reply.

"You are _evil! _Do you have _any _idea how much that cost me?!" Chris' face was bright red, and right in mine as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"How much _what_ cost you, dork fish?" I growled back at him, and then he had the _nerve_ to grab my wrist, drag me out of my room and into his. I was about to protest but my mouth opened and nothing came out. And then I started to laugh so hard my stomach hurt!

"What's up with your CDs?"

"_You_, you idiot! You super glued them to the wall!" He spat, literally. "And there is _no_ way to get them off! What did I ever do to you!" Chris about went through the roof (either with his bad temper, or aid from me if he didn't stop screaming at me).

"I didn't _do_ anything, geek bait!"

"Right! Who the hell else would do something like that?" Chris demanded, crossing his arms against his chest. "And you've done _plenty_ to me!"

"Right, sure, whatever, _Sparky_ . _You_ were the one who stole and tired _on_ my underwear!" I reminded him.

"I did _not_ steal anything! And I sure as hell didn't _try on_ anything of yours!"

That's when we heard it, in the middle of our death glare competition we heard a laugh rip through the hall. We froze. It was almost out of a cartoon as me and Chris marched to his door and looked around for the cause of this laugh.

Just as I thought, and probably Chris, too. Suddenly it was all starting to make sense. The missing Stitch, the underwear, the CDs, and the watermelon (there were more, but that was a quick recap). I looked at Chris who returned my angry stare and then he did this sorta growl thing, and as if we had cue cards we both bellowed together: "_Die,_ Drake!"


	40. Yakity Yak

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 040  
**

"This is _stupid_!" Chris screamed, throwing the ball at the rec. room door.

"Stupid or not, this is what they want us to do, so let's do it," Adam grumbled. I'd never seen him when he wasn't all Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy about something the benevolent Dr. Hank and Professor Xavier ever made us do.

"I think it's neat!"

Oh, of _course_ D-M would think it was neat while the rest of us felt as if we should be wearing diapers and crying for our bottles. They stuck us in the Rec. Room (took all the TV wires so we couldn't watch it or play video games) and gave us a ball, _claiming_ this was a getting-to-know-you activity.

If we didn't know each other by now, why the heck did they think we _wanted_ to!

I sighed. This was when I was supposed to step in and tell them that this was essential to our team status. But who was I kidding? _I _didn't even want to do this!

"Let's just get this over with," I finally piped up when Chris started to take off his shoes and throw them at the door as well (they locked us in, they seemed to be two steps ahead of whatever we were going to do).

"Yeah, sure," Happy boy answered glaring at me and thankfully (my nose would have jumped off my face and died in a corner) put his shoes _back_ on. "Yo, Adrian, go get the ball."

"Why should I? You threw it, _Kiss_." Adrian had a smug look on his face as Chris went boiled-lobster red.

"Shut-_up_! Plus you're on the football team you're used to being a dog."

"Oh for pity's sake! Ah'll go get it." D-M got up and did just that, but not before smart-aleck Chris decided to have another jab at humanity.

"One Tramp is good as another."

_Bam_!

Ball, Chris' face. Chris' face, it was nice knowing you!

_Go_ D-M!

She chunked that ball at Bradley's face and sent him flat on his back (he was only sitting).

"Who are _you_ calling a tramp?" An angry D-M, now _I_ was scared.

"Chill!" Adam tried, "Let's just get this over with."

Chris came up rubbing his nose, and I burst out laughing. His nose was swelled up to almost twice the size. "You look like a clown!"

"Shut _up_!" Chris lifted the ball as if to throw it at me and make me his twin or something.

"_Stop_!" Adam insisted—in his reptile-man form.

_That_ got us to behave.

"Start talking, start throwing!" Whoa, something was bugging the old guy (Adam was two years older than Adrian and Chris who were both eighteen, hence the nickname 'old guy') to snap at us. "And _not_ at anyone's face."

We behaved and started on the other stupid game-Adam never changed from his reptile form until the higher ups let us out.

* * *

"Miss Summers, we seem to have a problem." Those words coming out of my doctor's mouth could _never _be good. And why the heck did he have to send shivers down my spine with the 'Miss Summers' comment? Sure it was part of my new name but was still afraid someone was going to hand me ruby colored glasses. "It seems we were mistaken." Okay, so this conversation wasn't a positive one apparently.

"About what?" I was (again) stuck in the kitchen doing dishes after they found Bobby-Jerk bound and gagged in a boat drifting on the lake. Both Chris and I were grounded. The worst of it was that Mr. Cool-Jerk got sunburn. Whoopee. Like that's _so_ bad…of course it was on only one side of his face, the result of us putting sun block on the other side. We had watched him from the dock for a while, grinning like fat cats.

"Remember the blood sample I drew from you a few weeks ago?" I nodded, "It seems that your mutation has very little to do with your wings."

_Crash_!

Scratch one plate from existence. "_Huh_?"

Excuse me but these big black thing better have a very _large_ part of my mutant abilities! What, did someone up in heaven decide to have a good laugh by making me look like Big Bird gone gothic or something?

"We are not positive, but your blood has a very interesting quirk to it."

Interesting quirk? Was it able to spin around on one foot and sing or something?

"What's that?"

"It hasn't stopped mutating. In most cases, mine for instance, once the mutation has made itself known the blood reaches a stalemate. Yours has yet to reach the common end. I have to talk to Jean about this more, but she is agreeing with me at this time."

Sheesh, that's one trait he's never let go of -beating around the bush.

"So if the wings," the big, black, life altering wings, "are just a minor part of this thing, what's the big part?"

"We're not sure."

I was going to end up with a tail, I just knew it.

I felt like falling to the ground and crying like a two-year-old, but the wings which weren't such a large part of my mutation prevented me.

I needed a Tylenol and one extra-chocolatey cookie to go.

* * *

"Blyt," came that big deep voice I knew so well.

"Mr. Bishop," I replied swiveling around. I guess Bobby-Jerk chickened out of being stuck with me during monitor duty. He walked in, sat down, and then remained quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary right?

_Wrong_!

He was _staring_ at me; this much I could tell through the corner of my eye.

What the heck was I going to do! He was _huge_ and I was getting smaller by the second.

So I started with the nervous twitches, drumming my fingers, doing the annoying sewing machine movement with my leg, and humming.

This guy knew how to creep someone out without even trying.

"Hi?" I had to say _something_, I felt like a complete idiot watching the screens while this big guy was staring at me.

"Do you remember when I first came to the mansion and met you?"

Vaguely. "Oh yeah, sure." oh-kay so I lied, but don't look down on me yet, because somehow he just _knew_ I did.

"Indeed." Was all he had to say, I could see why he was a cop in the supposed future.

"Okay, so I don't," I swallowed hard, and he nodded his head.

"I remember studying you." Studying me? What, I was a lab rat in the future too? "You became one of my inspirations growing up." How on earth do you react to a comment like _that_? Say 'no prob, I am pretty great aren't I?' or blush insanely and wonder what the heck you did to make you so special? Of course, me being the Kookie that I was, blushed insanely, and wondered why the heck I was so special.

"Uh," Was my intelligent reply, thankfully Mr. Bishop stopped looking at me and turned back to the monitors. "What did I-?"

"There was a journal kept from someone's knowing you, it wasn't as popular as the rest of the X-men's lives," _Bam_! One blow to the ego. "But I remember it very clearly. You didn't save the world or anything as spectacular and redundant as that, but by what you will overcome. That is what impressed me."

That sounded like I was going to have even _more_ problems in the future.

This was an uplifting conversation, I was allowed to breed with someone, and on top of that I have even _more_ problems to overcome. If the issues aren't focused on trying _not_ to kill D-M when she bounces into my room at all hours of the night to _chat_ then I didn't know what else there was.

What happened to any having _normal_ conversations at this place?

* * *

"You're flunking my class you know."

Well that was a joyful way of telling me something. What was with all the talking? Next thing I know I'd be pulled over by Kenney and he'd start talking to me like a normal person (I still had his car key but he doesn't know that).

"I thought you were supposed to be nice to your students," I muttered.

"Not when they are going to explain why they got a big red F."

Man, this guy was unbelievable, "Where's your compassion?"

"Where your 'A' is apparently." I growled at 'Mr. Drake' and he rolled his eyes. "Can we get started or are you going to act out all of the X-Men for me?"

I stuck out my tongue and before I could put it back in my mouth, he caught it! Like between his fingers. I about gagged.

"What did I tell you about that?"

"Whet ho!" Which was _not_ a foreign language, but 'let go!' And he did with a satisfied grin (you know the type). " _Gross_! Now I have to go wash my mouth out!"

"I warned you."

Creep!

Man, and here I thought I was actually going to feel sorry for what Chris and I planned on doing to him!

* * *

I finally got my coveted me time, and wouldn't you know, I had nothing to do but flip through the pages of my teams' medical records again. What could I say? I had no life, but at least it's reassuring that neither did they (for the most part).

Completely ignoring Chris' file, I picked up D-M's and began to read. There had to be _some_ type of blackmail worthy information in here. At least that's what I jokingly thought.

Yet again, the joke was on me, as I read and re-read one tiny detail I seemed to neglect the first hundred times I forced myself to look at this thing.

I _had_ to talk to her, and soon!


	41. Thanksgiving & taking

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 041  
**

I couldn't find D-M _anywhere_ in the house when I actually went to look for her, and _he_ stayed with me on the hunt until Professor Xavier drove past us and left a little remark in our brains**.**

I _had_ to talk with that girl. This was as startling but less deadly than Chris' Legacy Virus discovery. Not like I really _discovered_ it, I just kind of learned about it. Anyway, I couldn't find her, and the only time I _did_ see her was when she was leaving on Thursday to fly home. I wanted to ask her about what I read, but there was like, no way!

"We'll all drive you out there. Adam is going home for Thanksgiving, too" Bobby-Jerk commented, Stacey rolled her eyes and said she had to go back to the "X-Ranch" to get some things, Mr. Kurt and Mr. Warren went with her. So it was my team, Miss Rogue and Bobby-Jerk piling in a car to go drop off two off my teammates.

"This is so wicked, I get to go home and brag to my cousins about who I've been hanging out with for the past months." Adam sighed like he just got kissed, "Some of the top genetic researchers around."

Oh brother, Mr. Science strikes again.

"Why aren't you going home, Chris?" Adrian dared to ask Sparky, who for his part rolled his eyes.

"Why aren't you?"

"I'm from Canada." Heh, Chris' face was priceless as he apparently forgot that simple fact. "So?"

"Don't be so nosy, it's none of you business, Maple Leaf."

Happy-happy attitudes to go around.

"Ah'm glad to go home again! Ah get to see my family!" Daisy ever optimistic self butted in. Yeah, more than probably anyone knew.

* * *

"That was a complete waste of two hours," Mr. Smiley-Face Bradley remarked.

"I don't know if it was because of the distance or what, but it looked like you and little Miss Daisy were _kissin'_ good-bye."

That comment made me squirm.

Chris went into denial and the rest of us rolled our eyes. The ride back was less noisy and _no_ teen idol CDs were played, I didn't know how, but we always ended up listening to Justin Bieber or something as equally as teeny-boppish. It was my turn now; I had alternative blasting through the vehicle.

"Can we have music that doesn't involve some whiney chick or some love sick gay man?" Chris, what a charmer.

"Like yours is any better man, bang, bang, bang, yell, bang, bang, bang."

"Shove it, Drake," Chris growled. "I don't even have any good CDs now thanks to you and your dumb jokes!"

Yeah, even though I really wanted to make Bobby bleed for those tricks, I had to thank him later for destroying that so-called music of Bradley's.

"Oh no," Miss Rogue caught us all of guard. "Not again."

"What? What is it?" The car should have tipped over because of four people in the car pressed their faces to the glass. There was smoke in the sky, like a big black thundercloud hovering over-where the school was? Did someone set the woods on fire?

For anyone with a will to live, _do not let Rogue drive_. She might be invulnerable, but the rest of us sure the heck weren't! She floored it, and poor Adrian flew back over the first back seat and into the second back seat. And when she hit the brakes (no one was looking, we were all praying to survive) I ended up in _his_ (_his, his_, I was in the front seat and was reaching over to turn the music down, and then _wham_!) lap!

Talk about an awkward moment!

But before either of us could think of a word to say, someone's voice cut in, "The _mansion_!"

* * *

"So things like that happen kind of often at this place?" Adrian jabbed another elbow into Chris' side. I was _so_ happy to have the back backseat to myself because of my wings although I could have hugged them close enough to me to sit in the front seat.

"Too often, I was wondering when the place was going to get destroyed again. I guess the bad guys of the world were on vacation or something," Bobby-Jerk sighed.

"Just because the house went _boom_, we get stuck in Leave it to Beaver land with _you_ and your family?" Chris grumbled.

"Would you rather be stuck cleaning and building for a whole week at the school?"

This was when I started talking; I didn't want to end up walking because Chris decided to short circuit something in the car. "But don't you think their timing sorta bites?"

"Yeah, they could have waited until a week that we _did_ have school so we coulda got time off." Chris carried on about that. I didn't mean to make assumptions, but it seemed he was in a worse mood than he was when D-M was here. Maybe there _was_ something going on between those two.

But it made my stomach twist to think of those two all lovey-dovey with each other.

* * *

"_Bobby_! I was so worried! You should have called if you were going to be late!" This woman with gray hair and an apron, bear hugged Bobby-Jerk. I was going to go out on a limb and say she was Mrs. Drake. "And look at the babies you brought with you!"

A general growl of resentment rumbled through the group. I swear, I was getting younger with every week, first I was a _kid_, and then I was a _baby_!

"Uh, Mom, this is Chris," Chris did a fake-happy-hi thing, something that reminded me a _lot_ of D-M. "and Adrian," Adrian's smile was at least genuine. As the 'baby boys' were introduced, they tucked away into the house. I, of course, was last. "And this is Kookie." Bobby-Jerk had the nerve to put his arm around my shoulders, which instead of making me want to hit him, made me blush...in front of his mother.

She saw that and made the comment, "Oh, Bobby, don't tell me you're trying to rob the cradle!" Mrs. Drake seemed like a nice woman, but did she _really_ need to say that?

We walked in like that, but Bobby-_jerk_ decided to add something, "Come on, Mom, there's no way, after all, didn't you just say she was a baby?"

"Doesn't mean you can't perceive her as a 'babe', Robert." Mrs. Drake turned and smiled, she and Bobby-Jerk had the same type of laughing smile. "Your father went to visit your uncle before you ask and won't be home until tomorrow."

He stopped touching me that very second. I kind of liked his mom; she stuck up for me, sort of. In a weird way.

This was the beginning of the Thanksgiving week stay at the Drakes' house.

* * *

"This is lame," Adrian complained as he rung out the mop. "I thought we were supposed to be guests, not maids."

"Stop complaining. You haven't had to clean in a few months," _Chris_ said. Bobby-Jerk and I dropped our feather dusters. _Chris _was actually defending _cleaning!_

"You've _got_ to be joking." I rolled my eyes, shook my head, and picked up my duster again.

"Yeah, _Chris_ wanting something clean? Looking at his room you'd never think he was a Sammy Homemaker." Oh, wasn't he cute thinking of something to call the male half of the 'Suzy Homemaker' society. Bobby-Jerk smiled at Chris as the latter stuck his tongue out at the former.

"Kids," Again a grumble, even from Bobby-Jerk, "I'm going to go shopping before it gets too crowded at the stores, does anyone want to come?" Two of us jumped at the opportunity to get away from feather dusters, mops, and vacuums. We'd only been there a day, and all of us were woken up around ten to start cleaning (food would be given when the job was done).

The other two yawned and started new chores, _he _and I about killed each other getting to the garage and into the car.

"You're so eager to go to the store?" Mrs. Drake asked as she drove.

It was Sunday, and the place was quiet. Here I thought it would be more exciting considering we went to a bigger city. One thing I was grateful for was that I wouldn't have to put up with a touchy-feely-playboy-wannabe like Kenney. He never remembered anything that happened between us (not like anything besides me hitting in the head with my heel happened). I kept his car key around my neck and every time I thought about it, I couldn't help but smirk.

"I'm so glad that Bobby brought a girl home with him, Kookie." Mrs. Drake smiled into the rear view mirror so I could see it.

I felt my stomach shrivel up and my heart hit the roof. "It's not like-" I protested weakly.

"I would hate to be outnumbered four to one, one more female helps even things up a bit." The odds for what? House domination?

"One of those males _is_ present." _He_ pointed out; Mrs. Drake's smile seemed to, just for a moment, get a bit of a dark twist to it. She seemed like a real goody-two shoes, but maybe she had a prankster side to her as well?

One could only hope. Any embarrassing moments or facts about Bobby-Jerk or Mr. Drool-after Drake (almost _all_ the girls talked about how 'cute' and 'sexy' the young teacher was. Yeah, cute and sexy until he opened his mouth!) would be helpful. It was decided (after the royal pounding we gave Drake) that Chris and I would stop at nothing to see the annoying prankster fall off his pedestal of his teenage fan club.

"So Kookie, any boyfriend?"

Beet red Kerry-er, Kookie, oh man, it's my thoughts and I should be able to call myself whatever I wanted! But this was my defense mechanism (thinking of something else or at the least confusing myself).

"And you," She eyed _him_ next, "any girlfriend?"

"Nah, just one I got my eye on."

Why was he picking on me!

"But Taylor Swift's phone number isn't listed."

What a _moron! _What a _jerk! _Unfeeling, dumb—!

I was so flustered I couldn't even think of any decent names to call the idiot!

Then _he _had the nerve to smile at me!

Grrr! You didn't _do_ that to a girl!

* * *

"Pack those up, and we'll be right back." Mrs. Drake grabbed my arm and dragged me off to another, smaller store._ He_ grumbled about being slave labor and glared at us.

I didn't hate grocery shopping with Mrs. Drake because she was one of those 'who needs a list' type person. She did a pick-and-grab thing, this meant _any_ type of cookies, cakes, and sugary stuff I wanted. And man! I wanted it _all_!

"Where are we going?"

"To my favorite place," she giggled about it, like a regular school girl, "the Chocolate shop."

I _loved_ this woman!

* * *

"And who are _you_?" I could only guess that this was _Mr._ Drake. He looked at me like I was a dog begging for scrapes. "Another mutie friend of my son's no doubt."

"Dad," Bobby-Jerk attempted to butt in. "Leave her alone."

"And what's your power? You like sparky here? Or what about metal boy?" His look made me gain about twenty pounds it was so heavy. But if there was something I remembered from the past few months, it was do _not_ under any circumstances, back down. So I did my best to not shake, but I _did_ turn off my image inducer to let him see my wings.

"My goodness," was Mrs. Drake's reaction, and Mr. Drake looked at them funny. What, like he has never seen a girl with wings before?

"Heh, at least you got a spine. More than I can say for my kid."

"_Hey_! Leave me out of this!" Bobby-Jerk shouted, Adrian and Chris burst out laughing, and Mrs. Drake just tsked him about it.

"I thought this was going to be another cat fight." Bobby-Jerk sighed, unloading another bag.

"Another?" Chris must be bored, here they didn't have seven hundred plus channels, they only have about twenty because the dad didn't like to spend money.

"He means that the two girls he's brought home ended up the brunt of a fight between his father and the girl."

"Thanks, Mom."

* * *

"Kookie, could you help me in the kitchen for a bit?" Yeah right. She might say a bit, but a bit meant the rest of the afternoon. For some reason it was always the _female_ part of a group who had to cook all day for the _male_ part of a group. I felt like getting a poodle skirt and poofing my hair, complete with a bow in it, and tell everyone to call me Kookie-Sue.

"Sure thing." I wasn't too thrilled about it, but it was her house and I was merely a guest in _her_ house. Although for the time we'd been here (it was now Tuesday) _he_ hadn't made any moves or anything. Not that, you know, I minded or anything. Just a little observation was all.

"Yes, Mrs. Drake?" I'd been saying this since Saturday..

"There's a phone call for you."

I didn't even here the dang thing _ring_. Picking up the receiver, I would have hung it up if Mrs. Drake and Bobby-Jerk hadn't been in the room.

"Ker-kitten! It took me forever to get that old guy at your new school to give me this number!"

"G-grandma, what a—surprise, _again_." I began to wonder if this lady was part blood hound or something.

"I was going to come and hunt," that made my blood go cold, "you down for the holidays, but your new _dad_ said not to. I can't believe I'm listening to someone who sounds like he walks around with a carrot stuck up his butt."

Now I remembered why I didn't like having Grandma around, she was so embarrassingly outspoken and with no restraints. But this was something everyone probably knew.

"What is it Ker-Kitten? Not happy to hear from Grammy-Arty?"

"It's not that, it's just that," I couldn't think of anything to tell her. It wasn't like I totally hated my Grandma, in fact I used to really like her…before Grandpa died and she went nutso with telling everyone everything on her mind.

"She was trying to get away from her demon-possessed family, new and old."

"_Chris_?" I hissed low, but harsh enough for him to get my unhappy drift, "Get _off _thephone!"

"Find me to make me," Chris challenged, and then in a high-pitched whiney voice added, "Ker-kitten."

"I am going to _kill_ you," I shouted.

"_Kookie_!" Mrs. Drake exclaimed, "That is no way to speak to your Grandmother!"

"I wasn't- I was talking to-!" I tried to defend myself; I didn't need for Mrs. Drake to think I was some kind of goblin in girl's skin! I wouldn't get anymore cookies if that happened!

I heard Chris laughing so hard I figured it wouldn't take me too long to find him after he wet himself. I thought we were in this revenge thing together, what the heck was it with him and switching sides?

"Ker-Kitten, I'm going to hang up." Grandma took in a deep breath, "But I want you to find that little boy and knock the hell out of him."

Chris stopped laughing, and with a quick "Yes ma'am!" and good-bye, I hung up the phone and took off to find my victim.

* * *

"Kookie," I felt my shoulder shake, "come on get up, Kookie!" Naturally, as anyone who was like me feels inclined to do, I did something that would get my annoying little mutant alarm clock away from me.

_Whamp_!

One of my wings snapped open and had the intrusive person smashed against a wall, dazed enough to let me go back to sleep.

That was, until _he_ decided to use _his_ powers on me.

"_Ah_!" I was nearly on the ceiling as my bed was lightly iced over. "_Bobby_!"

"Shut-up!" Bobby screamed moving his hands up and down as if I didn't understand the words. "Do you want to wake everyone up?"

Glaring at the clock from where I now, in a disheveled heap, sat by the bed, and saw the time.

"This might be _your_ old room, but that doesn't give you the right to come in here at two twenty," check the exact minute, "four in the morning!"

He gave me a bored, yet heavily annoyed look, "Fine then, I'll wait until two twenty FIVE to come in here and wake you up." Bobby-Jerk paused, "And didn't we have this conversation before?"

I just gave him my best explain-or-be-castrated look (hey, when you spent almost every stinking Saturday morning with Mr. Logan, you learned a lot more than martial arts).

"Get into your uniform, Scott and the others will be here in about five minutes to pick us up."

"Us? What about the other two?"

"This is for _your_ field experience, the others are still asleep." Again, Bobby-Jerk paused as he was leaving out the door, "But then again, _Kookie_, your big mouth might have woken them up, not to mention half the block."

I felt like smashing an ice cube. So I did the next best thing to it, I kicked the bed.

The bed that was now _solid_ ice.

I spent the next five minutes hopping around on one foot and wiping tears from my eyes while trying to get my throbbing foot from, well, _throbbing_.

The genius struck again!

* * *

"Blyt, your job is to pick up Beast once he's out of the complex," Oh great, they woke me up this early to be an air taxi? But I guess I couldn't really complain, it was my choice (in a warped sort of pre-decided way) to be at the mansion, and if this was the only way rent was paid, then so much the better.

My room, for the most part, was intact, except for some weird twist of fate, Chris' room was gutted and the wall that split our rooms was now missing. Oh goody. The box which Darcy gave me was safe under my bed where it had been since I was silly enough to open it.

I should have known my sister would put all sorts of pictures in there. I couldn't cope with seeing my dad in them, although I respected him a lot, and couldn't love him more; it was just the fact I was what I was. He never said anything about liking or hating mutants, so I wonder if he would have pushed me away. Of course, I tried to think my dad wouldn't do that to me; instead he would love me, regardless of my tyrannical ex-mom. That sounded funny, 'ex-mom' like it was being a mom was supposed to be a temporary thing.

"Blyt, you need to keep your mind focused." Mrs.-wait, uh, Detroit? Arizona? Phoebus? What the heck was her codename? It was some city-oh yeah! _Phoenix_!

* * *

All was quiet on the Western Front.

Okay, so the bad joke couldn't be stopped. But really, they had me jump off (basically pushed me off the plane, but that's another story for a psychiatrist) the plane and fly to a "perch" as Iceman so nicely put it, about a quarter of a mile away from the doorway where I was supposed to pick up Dr. Hank after he was done doing his half.

I had been here about an hour, in my black form, I wasn't even sure they had made it _into_ the compound until their signature sound rung throughout the night.

That, of course, was a big _boom_ followed by gunshots and a _ton_ of cursing heard over the comm-links, and then the guys with the guns.

"_Blyt_! _Now_!" I was temporarily frozen, I mean, what kind of maniac goes _toward_ gunfire? Then something in my mind took over, and before I knew it I was flying to where Dr. Hank and Stacey were booking it across a lawn. The mysterious pressure on my mind lifted, and I knew I would have to have a few words with Mrs. Jean later on.

Diving down, I reached out my hands and like a perfectly executed practice exercise I picked them up, and thankfully my stupid super strength kicked in and even though it was unplanned, I could manage Stacey as well.

"Took you long enough!" She barked at me.

"I could drop you."

"Dead-pan humor, my dear Miss Kookie, I do believe you are becoming more of a Summers every day." Dr. Hank smiled at me, and I was gaining altitude, but not distance.

"No offense, but if you don't stop squirming Dr. Hank, I don't think I'll be able to keep you from falling."

Just as I began to do what Mr. Warr-er, Angel had told me to do in our _multiple _practices, I started to glide. Maybe my new mutation would include eyes in the back of my head.

Because maybe next time I wouldn't get shot.**  
**


	42. The same story, a new ending

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 042  
**

I didn't remember much besides screaming.

I didn't even care about the two people who I had with me. In fact, I dropped them. I was high up, too but I didn't care. I had let go, and I heard them scream for me not to, but it hurt too much to keep holding them.

I probably killed them.

Stacey and Hank, and I killed them. I let them go, just when they thought they were safe for another night.

At that precise moment I didn't care, and my own descent wasn't very graceful either. I glided for another few hundred feet, but then the pain in the base of my wing was too much, and I blacked out. It wasn't even for long, but when I woke up, I felt like I was in a dream.

I hit the tree line, and _kept_ hitting trees. Breaking the branches on my arms and legs, even my tough black skin began to be cut. My face… I didn't even try to protect it, I was pretty sure it looked like it had gone into a blender, spit back out, smeared on my skull, and used to look like me.

When I hit the ground, I hit _hard_. My top flight speed was over a hundred, but I think the fall sped me up enough to where I hit the ground, rolled, tumbled, and skidded until I slammed into water and rocks.

I hit the rocks with my bad wing, and nearly screamed out—if I hadn't passed out a second later. I could feel things, like the water, and hear it as well. But movement was beyond me. I couldn't feel myself. Which after all I described was a blessing.

It was a _blessing_...

* * *

"Dad!" I complained for the thousandth time in a row. "I thought you were going to help me!"

"I can't, kitten." I grumbled. He promised he was going to help me with my math, my worst subject. "When I get back, I promise we will spend the rest of the night on Algebra, okay?"

"_No,_" I shouted, following him to the door as he pulled on his jacket. "I need it done _now_, because later my _life_ will be happening, and I can't put it on hold for _math_!" He gave me that look that only a parent could give, "or for _you_." And I smiled when he got a hurt expression.

"Aren't you ever quiet?" Darcy whined, turning up the TV in the next room.

"Bite me," I told her, focusing still on my dad. I didn't want him to go, my problems were bigger than whatever he was doing.

"Don't talk that way to your sister," Dad's voice got deep and serious. Mom wasn't home, and I didn't want to babysit the _brat_ while dad went horsing around with his buddies. He did this every Tuesday night. Mom always worked late on Tuesdays so it was always me and the brat together.

I was _so_ sick of this, maybe I should run away?

Yeah, that would show them. Doubt if I ran away on a Tuesday they'd even notice I was gone.

No one would come looking for me, not where I would hide. That would show them.

No one would come...

* * *

"..._Blyt_!" I woke up from my memory to my name being screamed over the shattered comm-link which lay a few feet from me. The red part that lights up when receiving a call came to life, and it soon couldn't take its own brokenness, the last thing it was able to give was a broken, "Ke-rr-eeee..."

Then silence. I could hear my ragged breathing, I was able to move a bit, and was dumb enough to attempt to get closer to the broken little 'X' badge. All I managed to do was snag my wing that caused me to yell, but there was blood in my throat.

I lay on my side, breathing, coughing, and crying. Bleeding as well, naturally I was bleeding. My uniform felt as if it was covered with blood, when it might have only been the water. The stream I fell into had a steady current that caused the blood seeping from my wound to cover me, and cover my hands.

The pain shot through me again as I moved a bit and a rock scrapped along the raw wound.

Blood on my hands...

* * *

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think, couldn't react. I was just so _useless_!

I thought about my revenge, thought it would be great if I snuck out of the house and hid in the old tree house at Burtcove's lot. It was about five miles from town (which meant Mom) and about two miles away from my house (which meant Dad).

I didn't realize it then.

I didn't even think about it. I just smiled and hummed to myself about how I enacted the perfect type of revenge which would consist of tormenting my parents, who would wail and worry about my whereabouts. I wouldn't go to school for the rest of the week, really have them freaked out and everything. Yeah, it was going to go _so_ well that Dad would never leave me alone again. That would teach them!

It didn't go as planned.

I made it to Burtcove's before sundown. I didn't tell anyone anything about my leaving, just threw my junk I needed out a window, and then climbed down the tree which was right next to the window. It was perfect. Darcy was engrossed in some after school special junk, mom wasn't home, and dad wasn't going to be back from the wherever for another thirty minutes. If I stuck to the wooded path, there was no way they could drive by and see me.

I was such a stupid little kid who thought she was a genius.

I was so smart.

I was too smart for everyone and everything.

By the time I made it to the lot, the people who usually played football and all that other junk were gone. The tree house was near the back of the lot, and perfect for hiding in. A lot of people knew about it, but because it was so old and, well, _green_ hardly anyone risked climbing up there. It had two evacuation routes built into it, so I could make my way out the back while they (anyone looking for me) tried the front.

If they even thought to check this place.

No one would ever come...not here...not for...

* * *

"Could you cut out the freakin' rain, darlin'? It screws with the scent," I heard Mr. Logan, he must be yelling at Storm.

I heard him through the comm.-link, it must be mine. It's too stubborn to stay down. It's confusing. I thought it was dead. I thought _I _was dead. But the pain was too intense for me to be dead.

I could be when they found me.

I remembered...Scott ...coming when I was ready to jump...off the building...with out...my wings...

They're broken.

I was broken, because of my stupidity.

Again...

* * *

I was up in that stupid termite infested place for a good two hours, the sun had gone down, and I was bored out of my mind. I had a weak lantern type flashlight, you know the kind that when you lift the side it was like a flashlight? But anyway, I had read half of the magazine I brought, when I heard the noise.

It sounded like a whole freakin' convoy pulling up. I turned off my light, and crawled to a hole in the wall (one of the many, many holes in the wall). Peeking out, I saw my _dad_ as he pulled up in the circle of trucks.

So this was where he went on Tuesday nights, to do the high school thing of getting drunk in a field. Oh _gee_, no wonder he would never tell me where he was going.

They were very close to the tree house; it was the main reason killed the light. Dad got out of his truck, shook the other guys' hands, and began to chit-chat. Mostly about sports and boring stuff, but there was something on his arm.

An armband of some sort, I had to squint to make out the letters, F.o.H.?

"Didja see what we did to the Danziger guy?" Some guy I didn't recognize stated, slapping his knee, and smiling like a mad man. "He was all beggin' and crap. It was hilarious! He thought he got us good. Too bad that fat idiot couldn't run faster than a bullet, eh, Zac?" No wonder he was smiling like a mad man, he was! My _Dad_ knew a trigger happy psycho?!

"Yeah, well, the girls needed help on their homework, or you know I would have been there." I was surprised my jaw didn't break through the rickety bottom of the old tree house. My Dad was going to be part of a—a well, whatever that involved a guy begging, a bullet, and some gun totting maniac?

_No_! My dad would –_never_ do something like that! Sure he irritated me a _lot_, but he was my Dad. He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't!

"So who's the target this time?" _Dad_, my _Dad_ asked about a _target_? As in a person? As in he was actually going to do this?

"Well, George thinks someone's been warnin' these people about what we are going to do," came another guy, actually it was my English teacher from seventh grade. Make _him_ the next target, the man almost flunked me!

"Why'd he think that?"

"Because," this other guy from the shadows hissed, I about wet myself because he just seemed to pop out of nowhere. "A lot of our targets seem to be moving away within the week's time we plan to track them. They get out of our district."

There were about twenty men now, twenty men and more coming.

More was going to come...

* * *

I woke up again, it felt like hours when it probably had only been a few minutes between consciousnesses and my memory. I didn't want to sleep again. The memories had never been so vivid.

It was the last time that I had been shot at.

The first time I had blood on my hands. The first time I was seeing the world for what it was. It was something that didn't revolve around me, but something that revolved around who was strongest and fear and hate.

I let that sink into my heart and since my dad's death; I was the dark and creepy girl who studied mutants. I was the freak. I was the _thing_ my dad hunted. Did he hate it? Would he hate me?

Dad saved me last time, but was it because he thought they were wrong? Maybe he was in denial that I was going to be mutant, heck, maybe he knew it and just didn't want to see me die. He was selfish and hateful and _stupid_ to let me see him die.

I felt a sob come up, and choke me. The blood must have been too much for my throat, to imagine my dad, who sacrificed his life for me, to know I would die being part of the thing he hated.

Talk about irony.

I wondered who would know that I killed my own dad...

* * *

"Do you know who it is?" Some other guy asked.

"We have a good guess, but nothing for sure." George, I think was who he was at least, eyed my dad. "And according to our resources, we are about to prove his true allegiance to our little group."

Half the men went rigid, some guy started to cuss a blue streak about how stupid it was, and a lot of them agreed.

"Do you have anything to hide, Nick?" The head guy asked, walked up to the cussing guy, and pushed him a bit.

"Oh, come on; let's be civilized about this whole matter, guys." A smaller man insisted. My dad backed him up.

"You're right," George said, and started to walk away from Nick. "So does anyone here have anything to hide? Perhaps about their spouse? Their _children_?"

"I ain't into killin' kids," a taller, stronger looking guy insisted.

"But they grow into powerful abominations!" George went on to rave about how they needed to pluck out the bad weeds before they took over the garden.

That's when the floor started to give.

* * *

"_Blyt_!" My vision was bad; almost all I could see was black. I could only make out the brightest sections of the stream and the moon. I heard them call my codename, but it sounded like it was a million miles away and underwater. It was getting harder to hear, to see, and breathing was the hardest of all. I didn't think one little bullet would do so much.

But I did fall hundreds of hundreds of feet, crashed through trees, skidded on a rocky terrain, and then slammed into a stream with sharp rocks, where I remained while slowly watched as everything of my past came flooding back.

Everything that was going to happen to me had already happened to someone else.

Dad, I didn't mean to!

* * *

I didn't have time to do anything, not even to curse or cry. I went with the floor as its ancient wood gave away under my weight and all went crashing to the earth.

"What the hel-?" I heard one of the guys say as I picked myself up from the ground and rubbed my sore left arm.

"Kerry?" I heard my Dad say in surprise. He was at my side, trying to help me to my feet, and asking over and over if I was okay. "What are you doing here?"

I was wondering when he was going to start asking that. "I—I was just-" wishing I could lie faster, "playing around in the old tree house."

Oh yeah, that wasn't transparent or anything. Sheesh.

"This your kid, Zac?"

Dad looked at him with annoyance, "Yeah, I thought she was at home."

"I think we found our leak," George stated, pulling something out from his jacket pocket that sent me into a fit of tears.

A gun.

He was going to freaking shoot me!

* * *

"_Kerry_! _Answer_ _us_!" I heard, for the first time, the sounds of guns and shouts and explosions coming from the forest in front of me.

I couldn't answer them, I could barely hear them.

But there was something breaking off in the edge of my mind, slowly making my memories and the present clash together. I heard someone close by, I wanted to call out to them, wanted to wave my hands around, and let them know where I was.

But I couldn't, I was able, by some odd miracle, to whisper something I couldn't even hear, "...here..."

That was it. My voice quit on me afterward. I wasn't able to talk. I saw something again. I saw a gun. Another gun. In the hands of someone who the X-Men were fighting against.

I called him to me. He said something, just like George with that hateful weapon and smile which illuminated the darkness around my eyes. I heard the loading of the gun, if it was from the memory or from the present, I couldn't say.

I expected the bullet to come ripping through me, or past me, just like before. I expected to hear Dad cry out and the other men curse and fight the other guy to the ground, the sound of the gun ringing through the dark night, and through my ears for the rest of my life.

But it never came.

A bright pinkish red light hit the gun which was fired half a tick later, but it didn't even hit anywhere near where I was. Dad had saved me?

As I saw my hero come over the side of the stream, and splash his way to me, I never remember Dad wearing a pink visor. Or being strong enough to pick me up.

Dad, how could you find me?

You saved me again...

...I love you, Dad...


	43. Recovery & Whoops!

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 043  
**

I woke up and that was a nice thing to do. It was even nicer that I couldn't feel my wing. But the best thing was my being able to breathe again. Of course, I looked weird, or at least I _think_ I did, because I had an oxygen mask over my face.

My eyes burned, but I was able to see everything. No more black taking over my vision, and that was, again, a blessing. I swear I thought I was going to sit down with Death and talk about the Giants or something equally as weird when I was lying in the water.

"Look who's alive!" Said a voice that put my heart at ease. Dr. Hank. He strolled over to me, I _think_ I was in the Med. Lab, and started to poke and prod me, I didn't feel anything.

I felt tears of relief start to sting under my eyelids. I couldn't believe I was going to start crying. If Dr. Hank was okay, that meant Stacey was probably okay, too. I didn't see how they survived, or why he was trying to help me, I thought for sure he'd be more than willing to let me sit and suffer after letting him meet the ground in a _fast_ way.

"You had us worried," he continued, "I need to go get Cecilia, so stay put, all right Miss Summers?"

Where the heck else was I going to go? An animal hospital?

Wait...Summers?

_Scott_! I forgot! He, I think, was there. But I remembered something about Dad. It was Dad who got me out of the water, wasn't it? But the pink flash, the guy with the gun? My head hurt. I couldn't even think straight.

But that's okay, because I felt like I was about to pass ou-

* * *

"_Hello_!"

That was one voice I didn't want to wake up to, but when the jerk was _screaming_ in my ear, I _really_ didn't want to wake up to it.

Chris glared at me as I opened my eyes. Gee, what a joyful sight.

"Talk about lame! She gets hurt, and sleeps for a month!"

A _month_!

"Don't dramatize things, stupid. She's only been out for a few days." It was D-M, I guess Thanksgiving had come and gone. What day was it? "Dork."

"Can you two of respect for the dead?" Bobby-Jerk asked, wonder why he's down here?

"She's not dead, Robert," Dr. Hank corrected, thank you very much! A dead person wouldn't have to listen to this junk.

Dead, wow, I came so close. Just like Dad, but I didn't die-I didn't...because of Scott.

Saved twice by men who I had their last name.

Both saved my life, I didn't want to think about all it implied to my new life, so I wouldn't.

I couldn't focuse very well, but I saw Dr. Hank chasing a few of them out of the room, Adrian, Bobby, and Chris. D-M bent down to look at me face to face.

"You look bad." Wasn't she just so sympathetic? I couldn't talk; my throat was raw and probably badly damaged with all the hacking and gagging I did. "But Ah'm going to help you, kay?"

Like I would object, like I _could_ object.

"Ah can't heal your wing, but the rest of you, Ah can. At least Ah _think_ Ah can." D-M glanced over to where I think Dr. Hank was standing, and then I felt her hands on my arm.

Ever felt a numb pain? Does that make any sense? I felt uncomfortable, but it wasn't like being cut, it was more of being itchy. My arms and legs tingled, my back I couldn't feel, and they probably had me heavily sedated.

My eyesight started to clear even more. I felt my throat tickle to the point of coughing, but by the time I was able to cough, it didn't tickle anymore. My face was hot and dry, but it too went away like the throat thing.

"Ah-Ah think Ah got it all," D-M said, stumbling backwards.

I think Dr. Hank caught her, but I was not sure, I was out again, feeling a lot better.

* * *

If waking up to Chris' bad attitude was the worst way, then the best way to wake up after being damaged like I was, was to _him_. No, I wasn't talking about in the same bed or anything, please, I took up half the room. No, I wasn't calling myself fat, but my wings were outstretched and considering how long they were, I took up half the room.

Back to _him_. I woke up when I felt someone touch my face. I usually was a serious don't-touch! type girl, but I gotta say, he felt nice. Apparently hair in my face was driving him crazy or something because it was my bangs he was messing with.

My eyes got a mind of their own as they, for the first time in my existence, fluttered (I kid you not) open and looked up at him.

"Welcome back," _he_ smiled, and _he_ really shouldn't, _he_ really didn't have to because _he_ was talking in that _deep_ voice. Whenever _he_ smiled, _he_ made me want to smile back. And I tried, but my throat was still semi-sore, though nothing like it was before D-M worked her voo-doo on it. "You scared us."

I wanted to laugh it off, but I couldn't and probably never would. That stupid episode made me remember some rather painful things about my dad's death. It hurt to even think it.

"What the hell are _you_ doin' here?" Chris' oh-so-loving voice asked.

_He_ turned around, "What the hell are _you_ doing here? Visiting your little girlfriend?"

"That might be _your_ reason; I'm just coming to see how pathetic she looks!" Chris was such a bad liar. Everyone could _see_ that he and D-M was a thing, but not at school, and no one could ever understand _why_.

Sort of like me and _him_. _He_ never acknowledged me more than he had to outside of the private times. I could only guess he was going to leave now as well.

"Yeah right, tell me another, Chris," _he_ said, turned back to me, smiled, and started to get up to go.

I made a noise, something that was supposed to mean 'Screw him, and stay here' in the nicest way possible, of course, but all that came was a pathetic noise which got him to turn, lean over to my ear and whisper.

"I'll be back when there isn't such an audience." And then smile.

Dang him and that smile!

Oh not to mention he did that whole trace-the-jaw-line-with-his-finger thing.

* * *

"Kerry?" It was Professor Xavier; I swear I never saw half these people as frequently as when I was hurt. Although I hadn't seen _Scott_ or Professor, and here the Prof just chopped it down to one person.

I wasn't bothered by it, really. I mean after all, the guy _did_ save my life, so I shouldn't ask any more from him.

"I see you are doing better." Yeah, my skin wasn't messed up anymore, but my wing was still a throbbing numbness. "I'm sorry this was your first experience on the field. Let me assure you that this is not typical. Minor missions such as this usually run much smoother."

Oh thank you for making me feel better. Not only did the newbie get _hurt_, nearly _kill_ two of her teammates, but it was all done on a _minor_ mission. One that should have gone off without a hitch.

And getting shot, I wouldn't be surprised it was initiation around here for going _on_ the field. Professor smiled at my thoughts apparently, I couldn't speak (hadn't tried) because of the plastic cup covering my mouth and nose.

"You have a unique ability," to get hurt and embarrass myself, "to adapt to whatever comes your way. It is a rare and highly sought after quality in this line of work."

Wonder if I didn't have this supposed quality how long it would take me to get fired from this job?

"Do you remember anything from the time Cyclops found you until you woke up here?"

This was an interesting question. Of _course_ I didn't remember anything. I wasn't conscious to do any remembering and it was a very good thing in my book!

He nodded, and went on to tell me that it was about week since I got shot, and so on and yadda yadda yadda. Hurt people are not captive audiences for this guy to torture, I knew his speeches were important, but would someone just get me the cliff notes, please?

I bit at being a good student, didn't I?

I'd tune back in to his talking eventually, but my mind was on anything _but_ the wounded wing, the blood, and _him_.

AGH! I didn't want to think about those things and they were the first things I thought of! Someone stop me!

* * *

"Hey, there." _He_ was back around three in the morning. "Sorry I didn't come back earlier, monitor duty." _He_ rolled his eyes. "I think I like you when you can't back talk."

But I could glare, I could still _glare_!

My eyes were already half-lidded, and with the plastic thing on my face, the power of the glare lost its depth.

"I thought you might want this guy." He pulled Stitch from behind his back. I couldn't move a lot but I was able to take my little friend and stuff him under my arm. _He_ must have been carrying the little blue guy (Hank Jr. according to some) for a while, it smelt like him (yeah, I cheated and took the plastic thing off for a bit).

_He_ apparently didn't know a sick girl's glare because he did that thing that made my sedated brain melt. He did the touching-the-face thing again. I was glad they didn't have me hooked up to a heart monitor or Dr. Hank would have been down here asking why it was going through the roof.

"I brought some entertainment for you." _That_ scared me. "Let me just get the TV hooked up." He then went to work, I tried to keep my eyes open, but Dr. Cecilia said I would sleep a lot more than normal because of the trauma to my wing. Apparently I was shot at the base of my left wing. The bullet went clean through the bone, muscle, and skin and came out of the other side. It would take the average four to six weeks for it to be useable again.

Mr. Warren said I had to learn how to fly again.

Mrs. Jean told him my thoughts that I better not end up on another ice pillar with Cyclops taking shots at me.

For some reason, Mr. Warren said he doubted _Scott_ would even look at me much less shoot at me for the next eight years or so.

"I think you'll appreciate my movie choice if I do say so myself." And then he hit play, if I had the ability, I would have laughed. He had picked, _Miss Congenitally_, and then after that was _Lilo_ _and_ _Stitch_.

I fell asleep sometime after the Elvis Stitch scene. I never even heard _him_ leave.

* * *

"My dear, dear Miss Summers," Dr. Hank, got to love a morning person doctor who always woke you up at seven on the _dot_. "I believe you will no longer need this lovely breathing aid, and will be able to sit up for the rest of your stay here. Isn't that nice?"

He took the cup off my face, "Won...d..ful..."

"I'll get some cough drops for your throat, be back in two shakes of a Nightcrawler's tail." That will leave you with an interesting visual image. I tried to get up, after a week or more on your stomach, you kind of start to get sick of it. But as soon as I tried, the pain ripped through me again and I ended up falling back onto my face.

"Genius," someone remarked, and I felt a pair of hands aiding me up to a sit-lean position. I was on my right side, with the top of the bed reclining forward. Mr. Warren then came into view. "You shouldn't have tried to move by yourself. Take it from someone that knows from experience."

His wings twitched as if saying '_Hey_! That's not funny!', they made me smile.

"You know, I'm really taking it on the chin about the mess up." Mess up! Don't tell me they were trying to say I was to blame for this whole thing. It's not like I wore a sign reading 'shoot me please, I like laying on my side and being jabbed with needles'!

Then again, I _was_ wearing the 'X' symbol, and if that didn't scream shoot me, nothing would.

I could joke about it, only because it's my defense mechanism.

Some funny thing, ha ha.

I hated guns.

"They think they need to step back on your training." Step _back_? Last I heard they were going to start going hard and heavy on me as soon as I was able to move without screaming in agony. "I think it had something to do with what you said to Scott."

I didn't get a chance to ask what it was I said to _Scott,_ but I had a bad feeling it was probably related to why Professor Xavier asked if I remembered anything from the time I was found to the time I woke up. Maybe it would also explain why _Scott_ never came around. Mrs. Jean made excuses and came to visit almost as frequently as _him,_ but she didn't stay half as long.

"If it isn't the other fair-feathered mutant of Xavier's. Came to visit the pupil I see." Dr. Hank handed me the cough thingies, "Or did you just come to prove the old saying about birds of the same feather?"

Oh, brother.

* * *

I wasn't bothered by it, heck no. He could do whatever he darned well pleased. I didn't care. I was a teenager I was supposed to rebel against any parent figures in my life, right? Right.

Then why the heck was I still thinking about it?

Everyone kept referring back to something I said when I was out of it. Personally I thought I shouldn't be held accountable for anything said when I was out of it, because I didn't know what I said and I didn't know what I was saying then most likely.

But what was it?

And since when the heck have I actually wanted _Scott_ to pay attention to me? No funny ideas about me wanting _attention_, because I didn't mean it in that way thankyouverymuch.

It's just that, I don't know, I guessed I kind of got used to the idea to having _him _always there for me, and _Scott_. Even though in _Scott's_ case it was mostly just annoying ways. He was the one to put me on the diet and everything, but I'd broken down in front of both of them. But _Scott _was actually nice to me, and not messing with my head like _he _was.

One minute _he's_ all over me, and the next, it was like, "Kookie, Kookie who?"

It messed with a girl's head.

I didn't think _Scott_ and Jean were going to be like that. But I guess I was wrong, I wa just little Miss Tax-break. Man, it bites. Why should I care? And why didn't they give me enough morphine to knock me out? I had nothing else to do but think, and if it kept going I was going to end up a philosopher!

* * *

I woke up, again.

It had been a week and a half since I got shoved in here, I was supposed to be able to go back to school the next Monday (oh yippee, look at me do a back flip for joy). But back to the reason I woke up.

For a moment I had to analyze the situation (as I was trained to do -ha-ha- and not to mention _thinking _was the only thing I was allowed to do).

My throat finally worked as I let out an ear-piercing scream.

The drugs had worn off, and due to the pain, my natural reaction to pull my wings to my body to try and protect me; this in turn, ripped the stitches out of place.

This caused me to start crying, and more screaming, but it was so hoarse that I didn't think anyone would hear me, not even Wolverine. I could barely see with the tears in my eyes and the feathers in front of my face. I couldn't stand to move my wings again, and I felt the sticky, hot blood soak into my sheets and thin hospital gown.

"...heee...lll..." It was supposed to be 'help' but it was an accurate description of how I felt.

It was like I had been shot all over again.

Then I saw someone, walking past the door. Several someone's in fact, they must have been dismissed from the Danger Room session or something. After all it was a Friday night, no one had a life around this house (yeah right). I tried to call out to them.

No one heard. They were too busy making enough noise to wake the dead, or to let a dying girl die without notice. I tried again and again, my tears choking out the volume I might have been able to gain, but it _hurt_! I felt like all my feathers had become knives stabbing at every nerve in my left wing, and sending white lightening through my body.

I was going to bleed to death. That was the only thought pumping like my heart beat in my mind. I was going to pass out from the pain, and slowly bleed to death because no one would come to check on me. I didn't want to die!

I was way too stubborn to die in such a pathetic way! I didn't do anything yet! I couldn't die! I was supposed to breed, and become (in some weird way) a role model for Mr. Bishop, what kind of role model didn't live long enough to ever use a freakin' driver's license?

So I, with the blinding, ripping pain surging through me, fought it back long enough to find Stitch and chunk him across the room, and out the doorway.

Bobby-Jerk _had_ to be the one who found it! Oh man! That guy would probably use it for a sacrifice or something to himself!

"Hey, Hank! You've been trying to clone yourself or something?" Bobby-Jerk joked, then tossed it back into the room, and through my tears and sore throat, I was going to say some nasty things about that _brat_.

I was going to die because _Iceboy _found my cry for help and threw it back in my face! When I looked up again, I heard someone come back, and then scream for Hank.

Bobby-Jerk must have realized something was wrong. Good for him.

"_Hank_! Get in here! Kookie's bleeding all over the place!"

I would have to thank him later.

After I hurt him.

I would definitely thank him, but the hurting had to come first. He could have noticed earlier, ya know!

* * *

"And the cast is complete and she can be made mobile again!" Dr. Cecilia then went through the dos and don'ts when having a broken bone. After that lovely little mind-numbing monologue, I was _finally_ allowed to live on the outside. Not that seeing _him_ and watching different movies was a bad thing, but not being able to take a shower _was_. _He_ offered to give me a sponge bath and I twisted the hair on his arm and croaked for him to stop being perverted.

As for the person who I was supposes to look up to as my new 'father figure' he never once showed up. And I said I wouldn't let it bug me, but it did. How could you help someone then completely forget they existed, like you didn't care or something? That wasn't right.

I wobbled out of the Med. Lab, glad to be freed from the place and hoping I wouldn't have to be back there any time soon. After the episode of me ripping my stitches out, I made it worse by making the slice in my skin even bigger. That really had nothing to do with anything, but I felt like sharing.

"Kookie," Oh man! I wasn't even half way to the house part of the mansion before I was being bugged about something. "Could you come with me?"

It was Mrs. Jean, and what was I going to say? I could say 'no' but this lady _had_ come to visit, not to mention _adopted_ me. So I followed her.

"How's your throat?"

"..k.."

"I see, I know you don't like it when I speak telepathically to you, so I'll just guess at your responses." Whoops, I didn't mean for my dislike of mind leeches to be _that_ strong.

"..where?" I managed to get out.

"There's something in the hanger I wanted to show you." We got to the doors; they opened, and guess what we did? We went in. Wow. That was a surprise. Sorry, but my defense mechanism was still on code red. She turned on the lights and the whole four football fields or longer tunnel came to life and in the middle stood the Blackbird.

Actually, it looked like a _fried_ Blackbird, one that had been on the grill for _way _too long. Wires hung from beneath it like guts, the windshield was shattered on one side, and the other was just gone. Metal was scorched and dented, I didn't mean like lighter-and-hammer kind of thing, I mean like the-army-used-it-for-target-practice-with-their-latest-tanks kind of thing.

How on earth did they manage to get this thing back to New York in one piece?

"Take it from someone who knows the man," Mrs. Jean started, coming up next to me as I examined the underside of the plane. "He isn't the first to say how he feels."

"...w..ho?"

"Scott." At his name I turned my nose up in the air and tried to make like I didn't give a fig. If he was wishy-washy then I didn't need a 'dad' like that. No one could ever replace my _real_ Dad, but I did miss having that aspect in my life, no one but those like me could ever understand.

"..dun...care."

I glanced at her and she smiled and shook her head.

"Of course not," Mrs. Jean came right beside me to look at a particular nasty spot by the hatch. "Even if you don't have his blood in you, you sure act like him."

Same thing Dr. Hank said, but I just took it as an insult.

"..how..?" I asked, jabbing my thumb to the plane.

"We all saw you go down," her tone dropped, "Storm and I were able to get Hank and Stacey before they hit, but not even Rogue or Angel could catch up with you, and then you disappeared into the woods. Scott told everyone to start looking."

Wasn't that nice of him.

"But after ten minutes, no one could catch feather or scent of you, and Storm, to protect us from being tracked too easily started to make it rain. That messed up Logan's senses to the point he said everywhere had your 'friggin' scent'." She smiled as she quoted him, and then looked me in the eyes. "Normally, Scott commands us to leave, because the people we went up against started to pull out their bigger guns, but he wouldn't retreat. We had to fight them back for hundreds of yards, until our backs were against the Blackbird."

So what she was telling me, I guessed, was that even though it put the whole team in jeopardy, _Scott_ refused to leave without me? Was I _that_ big of a tax-cut?

I heard her snort (no, I was not being mean, but the lady actually _snorted_).

"Scott doesn't have the easiest times showing he cares. But he does, Kerry, your _his_ kid now. Once you let us adopt you, you became _ours_ and Scott is very protective of the people he loves. But he's lost so many people over the years that he keeps it all inside and sometimes he comes off as cold."

No kidding.

"I just wanted you to know," Mrs. Jean smile softened as she began to lead me out of the hanger (I was going to be able to take a shower again! It's a good thing my hair was black so no one can see how dirty it really was). "Don't be too hard on him."

What was I going to do? Fuss at him for not coming when he saved me? Oh yeah, I was _that_ rude. "..sure.." then another thought struck my mind. "..wh..t...did..I..sey..too...'im?" I told you my throat was in _pain_.

"You," she seemed stunned, "Don't remember?"

_If_ I did remember, why the _heck_ would I _ask_ about it? Just because I liked the memory or something? A memory that I did _not _have.

"You, you said you loved him, and," I could feel my eyes pop from their sockets, Oh heavens, please say I didn't say my drugged, short-on-blood-supply thoughts had been spoken. "You even called him Dad."

Oh, my puppies.**  
**


	44. What do I?

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 044**

I was supposed to go to school today, but I was only there half the day because I had to go to Dr. Cecilia's office in Salem Center. Afterward Mrs. Jean let me skip the last two hours (both with Bobby-Jerk, 6th period he was teaching, and 7th period, my free hour, was him _re_-teaching everything). The _real_ doctor, as she called herself, wanted to examine me against the information collected from Mr. Warren and Dr. Hank.

She came up with the same conclusion.

Four to six weeks to heal. Sheesh, I could have quoted that from almost everyone who said they've 'been there' in the broken bone department.

But anyway, I stood in the doorway (okay, right _next_ to the doorway) for about twenty minutes. It's not the bathroom before someone thinks I was waiting for that. The truth be told, I was scared. I was nervously scared, or scared nervous, whatever way it was said correctly.

Mrs. Jean told me _Scott_ liked to work on the Blackbird himself as a stress reliever. Sort of like me and grumbling about things in the privacy of my room. Sometimes I talked to myself too loudly and I heard Mr. Logan give a comment back as he would walk past my room.

My room, to stay away from thinking about _Scott_, wasn't complete. I could see into Chris' room and Chris' room could see me. Chris wasn't allowed back into his room until the wall was completed, he was bunked in the study.

That room had never been such a mess!

Back to the thing I didn't really want to think about.

_Scott_.

I guess I should stop saying his name that way, but it's hard to break a habit. Besides, what else would I call him? Mr. Summers? Mr. I-have-your-last-name? Mr. Cookie-Snatcher-with-the-Carrot-rammed-up-your-behind-man?

…Dad…?

I couldn't believe it was true! Mrs. Jean said she was 'there' when I said it, although it was barely audible, _Scott_ having the bat ears that he did, heard me. My reality and memories were mixed up at that point! I shouldn't be held accountable for things I didn't remember!

Now if that would only work when I wanted to beat the snot out of one of the guys on the hall and I got caught.

That's why I was there, standing outside the hanger door waiting for my feet to revert from lead to flesh so I could actually _move _again. The tricky part was I didn't _want_ to move. Sure I brought myself down here with no one's prompting (for _once_) and then my back bone turned to jelly-maybe it was the pain killers I took numbed it beyond all resemblance of solid bone?

Oh great, excuses again. I was _so_ incredibly lame.

And grateful to two men.

One I couldn't thank. One I couldn't talk to anymore. One who I wasn't even sure would have wanted me to be a mutant, but then again, he had defended me. He died for me.

And then there's the _other_ one, the new one. He didn't want to take the first one's place. He's nothing like the first one. Zac was open and helpful, easy to make laugh and he's who I got the rolling eyes bit. Scott, Scott was like the perfect soldier. He knew what was going on all the time, had all the answers, and just seemed _too_ perfect to be real.

But then he worried about me, went against his better judgment to make sure I was okay. Sacrificed his safety to secure mine—just like the first one.

I had to talk to Scott, maybe he was waiting for me to come to him? It didn't boost a girl's ego when the other person avoided them like a flesh-eating virus. Mrs. Jean also said something about him not being open and honest about his feelings.

Like I put mine on a friggin' neon sign.

I wasn't going to let my chance slip by again. It happened with my Dad when I let him take a stand and fall for me. Never have I thought about him this much since the funeral, since I lied and since then _period_. It just hurt too much, so I made it a hobby to forget about what he did for me.

I took a deep breath, gripped Stitch tighter (call me a three-year-old, but I didn't do this type of thing by myself!), I turned the corner, and listened to try to pinpoint exactly which part of the tattered plane was getting fixed.

It was coming from the left wing. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that. My left wing was damaged, and _Scott_ was working on the left wing. Oh, brother.

_Slowly_, I mean like one foot in front of the other and then wait a minute kind of slow, I got to where I saw the cherry picker thing elevated and brunette hair falling over one of the sides. Apparently he was laying down on the platform fixing on the things that needed to be fixed.

Good, he hadn't seen me. I could tell he was busy, so I didn't need to hang around. With that thought I started to turn to go, "Is there something you need, Kookie?"

_Crap_! I was starting to think he had eyes in the back of his head (and on the side and everywhere else). I found my feet _the_ most interesting thing ever to be created when he turned to look at me, and started to lower the platform.

It was too late to run, and too early to cry.

Trust me; I felt both urges coming on strong.

"Is there something you wanted, Kerry?" My birth name had become like a 'private' thing since everyone at school knew my name as 'Kookie' even though some made snide remarks at it. I heard his feet hit the ground, and I felt the tears start to well up.

Oh great! Just what I wanted! To start balling like a baby in front of the guy I only wanted to say 'thanks' to! Great! Peachy! Argh! Sometimes I just really irritated myself (and everyone else around me).

Somehow my mouth decided it was good enough to be its own person and started to move, my voice apparently left my brain and joined my mouth when it rebelled because I started to talk. And what I said sounded as if it came from someone else. I spoke mostly into Stitch's head, and I started to back step when I felt the first tears start to fall.

I was turning into a cry baby, but it's warranted after all I had been through, right?

"I-I just wanted to thank you," I swallowed, "for e-every-"this was when the tears started to fall and the voice started to rethink its strength as it began to crack, "thing you've done." And then I felt _more_ tears, and I just knew he was going to do the 'no prob, see you later!' thing.

My feet were heavy, and I wanted to run like before. Instead I stood there like a moron, not even able to pull my wings around my body to let me pretend I could hide.

"You're going to hear this a lot from this place, so let me be the first to say it, 'X-men take care of their own'. " Scott's words were nonchalant, but when I looked up at him, his eyes were off to the side, at least his head was. There's no telling _where_ the man was looking, not unless you have X-ray vision, and with everyone wearing spandex, it's a useless power. That was going _way _off track.

Then my voice and mouth, _again_, decided to fill the silence, I was thinking about having them amputated. "I-I meant for the whole, uh, a-a-doption thing, too."

"Oh," _not_ the response I initially wanted, but at least he didn't burst out laughing. "You should thank Warren for the finances that allowed it to be done so quickly." That was true, I was so easily a Summers' kid because of the amount of money Mr. Warren gave to all of those involved, I think it set him back like _nothing_ cause the man was dripping dollar signs.

And sex appeal according to Stacey and Paige, but I digress.

"You didn't have to…"

"I lost my parents, too, when I was young." Scott chimed in, walking back to the platform, and patting the place next to him as if I was a dog who should follow his orders.

Well, _woof_ because I followed his orders and sat down (with Stitch) next to him.

"H-how?"

"In a plane accident," Scott seemed to laugh sadly at this, "and there was only one parachute. They strapped it on me and I held my little brother, Alex, and jumped." They'd have to push me out of a plane. "And the 'chute didn't open, and my powers kicked in and saved us." So Mr. Summers and I had some things in common. "My Dad wasn't dead, but that's another very complicated story which I can't fully grasp when I think about it still."

"Oh," now it was my turn to be uneasy about what to say. "Uh-"

"How," Scott picked up a wrench, "how did you dad die?"

I felt my whole body go cold. He said the _d_ word. The word I supposedly called _him_ when I was out of it. Hugging Stitch closer to me, I had a brief question flitter through my mind, I thought Mrs. Jean said Scott was a closed story and here he was being all chatty.

"He-he was shot." I felt the tears come quicker. I couldn't look in the box Darcy left me because of the pictures in it. They were of us, the D'mon family, actually being happy. I gave an imitation of a sad, broken laugh, "and if you want the rest," I licked my lips, "it depends on what version you want."

"Version?" Scott, Mr. Brave-and-Bold, was actually speaking _softly._

"Yeah," I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, "I-I was there when he—but I told my family something else."

"The real story."

I sniffled, "I've never told that before."

* * *

"_Chris_! You _nerd_!" Okay, so it wasn't the best or most creative name I'd ever called the moron, but I was too startled to even think of anything else to call the _nerd_!

Adrian said he needed help doing something and since the other half of his Home Ec. team was chatting about something, he didn't have anyone else to ask. My group's cookie recipe was almost done (in the oven), I didn't see any harm in it. I didn't, until I came back twenty minutes later and saw Chris made use of the extra dough, of course, I didn't know this until _after_ it was baked!

"Yes, stick-up-her-butt Summers?" Okay, so that's a name that can be forgotten. He had such a _smug_ smile on his face I was about to pull a _Hanztel and Grettal_ on him and shove him in the oven.

"_What_ is this?" I asked pointing accusingly at the cookie.

"A gingerbread man." He said like _nothing_ was freaking _wrong_ with the cookies!

"And this?" I said, pointing to another one on the pan.

"Oh come on, bird brain, I know you don't have much, but I thought you'd know what a_ real _chick looks like." Okay, he was _so_ going to go missing on the first mission we ever went on.

"Why the _heck_ did you make them-" My face went beat red and my mind raced to think of the right word, "_anatomically _correct?!"

He only deepened that _smug_, obnoxious _smirk_ as he crossed his arms, "Why not? Would hate to have to hear about how we unfairly represented the batch with _just_ gingerbread _men."_

He was such a _jerk_!

"Looks like a gingerbread _boy_ to me," the other girl in our group said, picked up the cookie and actually _examined_ the added part, "Model it after yourself, Chris?" Alexis was her name, and she matched his smirk as he glared at her.

"Is there a prob—oh, my." Miss Reese just _had_ to come over at that moment!

* * *

"This isn't good, Kookie, not on your first day back," Mrs. Jean sighed.

I wouldn't have been _in_ the principal's office if it wasn't for Chris! Him and his perverted ways! Then after Chris and Alexis started to get into to it, the principal said he'd 'sadly' have to call our parents.

They must have had the mansion on speed dial.

Mrs. Jean came to pick me up, and for the sake of not being asked a million and one questions, Dr. Hank with Mr. Image-inducer picked up Chris.

"..as soon as you started preaching, I've been regretting it!" Chris came through the door, and like me, was herald into the Professor's office. "Oh man, it was just a _joke_, excuse me for wanting to be original."

Original, yeah, right.

"Blyt," Professor started, flickering his eyes over to me, "I am not the one to correct you, you're punishment has been left up to Scott and Jean."

_Yes_!

* * *

I got to say, that once the whole of the story was (thanks to telepathy, ick ick ick) relayed, I got off scot-free! No pun intended. They saw it was clearly _not_ my fault and therefore I should not be held responsible for something as uncouth as 'sexing' a cookie.

"Who do I thank?" Came Bobby-Jerk's oh-so-happy-to-be-home voice. It was dripping with so much sarcasm I thought I'd need to get Chris a mop to clean it up (he got cleaning duty!).

"For what?" Miss Oreo asked.

I nearly choked on my milk when he held up one of the accursed cookies, the _very_ female cookie.

"I got this in my box at the office," Meaning the mini-mail room system they had going on in the main office. "It had a note attached to it, from Miss Reese. And the moment I saw it, besides almost dropping it, I knew it had to be one of _our_ kids."

Grumble from the Kookie gallery.

"Oh, yes, Christopher created, that very—detailed sugary sweet and was sent home for it."

"And you're innocent?"

Duh, "Yes." I told him flatly.

He sighed, flipped the cookie over a couple of times, smirked, and then left the room.

He was up to something again!

It would be a few hours before the Professor would find a very interesting snack on his desk.


	45. It's an Arty

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 045**

"_Hide me_!" I screamed, running into Adam's room, who woke up from the papers he was pretending to read. His glasses were off and he had one of the papers sticking to the side of his face, it would have been cute if I wasn't _seriously_ distracted by something else.

"What's with you? Eat Rogue's ice cream again?" Adam asked, one eyebrow hiked up. I skirted past his bed, and tried to hide on the other side. His expression was priceless, in fact it was between 'she's gone crazy', and 'am I still dreaming?'.

"Worse!"

"That's impossible." Adam should know, he made that mistake before. Bunny Tracks was Miss Rouge's ice cream, eat it as if you eat your last meal. He peeled off the paper from his face and heard what I was running from.

"Ker-_kitten_! Where'd you go?" I heard Mr. Logan and Mr. Remy say something to her (separately of course, they aren't like Twiddle-Dee and Twiddle-Dum or something-although that makes for a very interesting mental picture). "_Never_ mind honey! I found some _things_ to keep me occupied."

Adam looked the door with curiosity; I looked at it with fear.

_Grandma_ found me!

She _flew_ up here to be with me!

"Who's that?" Adam asked, getting up to peek out the door.

I gave a short prayer of thanksgiving that my wing was steadily healing and that I was still on pain killers, though not nearly half as much as before because I took a chance and tackled the boy.

Yes, he was the second guy I ever tackled in my life, and in this house. Would he be the last? Who knew.

Too bad the _thud_ gave me away.

I was on top of him (he turned around just in time to see me) and then the door opened.

"_Whoa_! No wonder you were running to get up here!" Grandma said, giving me a smile, "Honey, I was young once too, I understand those _urges_."

Shoot me again, and only this time aim for my _head_.

Adam, of course, tried to quickly get up, and because I was so stunned I didn't move quickly enough and we knocked heads.

"Ow," I muttered, and got up off of him (Adam) but _he_ was standing behind my Grandma and gave me one of the nastiest looks I ever saw. Oh don't tell me he's jealous of _Adam_!

"Don't you know how to kiss properly?" Grandma said, helping me to my feet. "I guess that's one of the things I'm going to have to teach you, kitten."

I sighed in defeat and walked with her to my room where she'd be staying. I glanced back at _him_ trying to get sympathy, but apparently he's the _very_ jealous type and just stuck his nose up.

"I could give you a demonstration about how to do it right, if," she _sauntered_ over to _him_, "this young man will help me."

It was _his_ turn to get the look of death on _his _face and _he_ looked at me to save him, and all I did was smirk, "Sure, Grandma, why not?"

"I-I have to go," _he _tried to escape and the other guys who appeared out of nowhere started to chuckle at his predicament.

"I'll follow."

"I have to go to the bathroom!" _he_ tried, edging closer to the bathroom door.

"Even better." _He_ laughed nervously; she grabbed him by the arm, "Come here hot boy!"

And she _kissed _him! I thought his eyes would pop out of his head! It was _so_ funny, it sent the whole hall into shock and then into a roar of laughter.

"One hell of a granny you got there, kid," Mr. Logan told me smirking as _he_ pushed her off of him and quickly made an exit.

"Maybe I should teach you how to kiss better, too!"

OH ouch! That had to hurt his pride!

This was going to be an interesting visit.

For me and for _him_.

* * *

"So what is she doin' here anyway?" Mr. Remy asked, leaning on the railing that looked over on the first floor. I watched the Professor playing 'nice' with Grandma or Arty as she _loved _to be called. If it was male and not wearing a ring, she was flirting and trying to make buddies with the man.

"She said that her 'kitten' was sick, where else was she going to go?" I replied lamely. _He_ glared me (or tried to) into oblivion after she kissed _him_. "She's apparently staying for a bit."

"It's good dat some of your family gets to be here den." He smiled at me and started down the stairs. Although I couldn't see the Professor or 'Arty' anymore, I heard them.

"_Mrs. D'mon_!" Apparently my Grandma found the Professor attractive. The outburst stopped Mr. Remy in his tracks, as he gave a questioning look to me.

"Lock your doors." I warned and turned to go back to my room and hope she didn't bring her 'nursey' uniform.

* * *

It was a night later (after all the males were _highly_ afraid to leave their rooms in just a towel after Grandma snatched away Mr. Bishop's, that guy ran faster than I thought possible into the bathroom) and I was lying awake with Arty (I figure if I didn't call her 'Grandma' I could pretend she wasn't related to me) on the cot beside my bed.

"So, kitten, anyone _special_ in your life?"

"Stitch," I replied, keeping my eyes closed and curling into a ball underneath my Oreo cookie bed sheets.

"So there _is,"_ Arty smiled (okay so I peeked to find her _staring_ back at me). "It's that young guy who kept looking at you over dinner, isn't it?"

"Grandma," It was natural, I had to work on the whole 'Arty' thing, "He was looking at you because you kept playing footsie with Mr. Jean-Paul." Who after the hundredth time of knocking her away shouted _'I am **gay**_.'

She left him alone after that (actually she offered to help him go straight; we hadn't seen him since).

"Oh, I think there's more to this then you're letting on, Ker-Kitten." She gave me the 'you're hiding something' look.

"And who are you talking about? _Everyone_ here is young to you, Grandma." She pouted, a fifty something year old lady _pouted_, "Except maybe the Professor."

"Charlie?" Arty's enthusiasm hit the roof. "Oh, hon, he's got it _all_. Money, a big house, a forehead I can see my reflection in…"

I cracked a smile, and couldn't help but laugh picturing my Grandma fixing up her hair in the shine of the Professor's bald head.

"So you goin' to tell, or do I have to start listing names?" Arty was _really_ good with names, and that made me cringe. If she (like I know she was bound to do) said his name loudly, half the hall would wake up and then _he_ would be in trouble because they'd think he snuck into my room or something.

"Uh," I started to think of ways to knock myself out when none came to mind. I shyly (almost inaudibly) said his name.

"I _knew_ it!"

Darn hearing aids!

"_Shhhhh_!" I tried to get her to calm down, but she jumped up out of bed, flicked on the lights, started to rummage through her stuff, and then went to my closet. "Grandma, what are you doing? It's one in the morning!"

"I have a plan!" And I have a test tomorrow. "I'm goin' to see you two together if it's the last thing I do!"

_This_ was when it started to get _real _interesting.

No, I take it back, it got interesting when she pulled out one of her black miniskirts and a tube top was when it started to _really_ get interesting.

* * *

"You look like the walking dead."

Got to love Chris. Wait, no I didn't.

"Like looking in a mirror isn't it?" Alexis Mickle, she's got to be one of the funniest people I know. She's the one who saved me from the jock table, which Adrian took as a person offense. Her one major fault? She was 'in love' with Mr. Drake. I thought she would have taste.

We sat in Miss Reese's room while the teacher twirled her hair and got that 'I'm-thinking-about Bobby-Jerk' look in her eyes (translates into: students got a free hour).

"Stayed up too late?" Alexis asked.

"Yeah."

"With who?" She got a glint in her eyes.

I replied with all my Summers' dead-paniness I had, "My Grandmother."

_That_ sent her for a loop, I felt I had better explain before her mind started going ninety to nothing, "She's staying with me for a little while, and decided I needed help, uh, _pinning_ someone."

"_Who_?" I _knew_ that question was coming. I really didn't want to say. "Come on, girl, you can tell me!"

"I could tell you," Chris' smirk was slapable. "But I won't."

I glared _hard_ at him.

"_He_ knows but I don't?" Alexis tried to look hurt, but the smile of interest totally messed up the effect.

"I walked in on them."

_Die_!

"_What_?" Alexis almost left her seat. "Oh my _gosh_! You have _got_ to tell me now! And what do you mean _get_ him when you've done _got_ him?"

"Not like that!"

"Yeah, there was another person in the room after all."

He's referring back to the Medical Lab! What a-a-a _boy_! And trust me he didn't let it drop at that, he kept Alexis hanging on with half detailed sentences for the rest of the day.

* * *

There was one thing to be said about Grandma's, they knew the quickest and most efficient (a/k/a scarring) way to embarrass their grandkids.

As if it wasn't bad that Grandma 'Arty' took Darcy and I to the beach when we were ten-and wore a French-cut bikini, then this was bad. Bad as compared to a whole chocolate cake without a single glass of milk kind of bad (I'd been tortured by that yogurt commercial too much apparently).

Not only did she get it into her head that she was going to force me and _him_ together because I was stupid enough to let it slip I sort in a way might actually like him though half the time I'd like to pass him through a wall, she told me her plan of execution. Any debate on my side was ignored and if I didn't wear the clothes she picked out for me this Friday, then she'd tie me up (hurt wing or not) and dress me herself—in the dreaded nurse costume.

Not that the outfit she had picked out was any better.

She told me, like it was a good thing, that after next Friday (the last day of school) we were going to New York. Not to shop (thank God) but to "go clubbin'" as she so happily put it. My heart about stopped when Arty said those words. I fought that I was only 16 and not able to get into any kind of club (I have no idea if that's true or not, but I was desperate!). She whipped out this card, which turned out to be a fake driver's license.

I couldn't believe this woman! She's the eternally 17 with wrinkles and dyed light brown hair!

"We are going to teach that young guy you like that he shouldn't play games, especially with us D'mon women." I pointed out I was a Summers now, she said I still had some D'mon in my blood and therefore look out _him_!

I began to mark down the days until Scott and Jean locked me in my room, kicked Grandma out, and swore that I was going to be shipped into a convent. The outfit and plan was _that _bad.

* * *

Mr. Poovey slammed his book shut, gave us his evil eye (normal look for him) and stated that the mid-term would kill each and every one of our grades. Since all of us were afraid to breathe because we'd probably end up in the principal's office, we just sat there like stone statues.

"That's right! I don't have a doubt in my head that all of you will be dropped one letter grade because none of you will study!" Again, silence, severe agitation and silence. "And as I'm sure you were told by those who were able to survive my class that my test questions are all essay. They are. You have to get the spelling correct and there will be no curve given. But,"

You may pay me lots of money and get out of this class with a D? Okay, so it's a bit farfetched, but hey, I was suffering in this class!

"If you will check the handout, for those that didn't make spit balls or paper planes out of them, you can see the clause in which you might pass the class with never taking a test, quiz, or writing a paper again."

This required further investigation, but knowing this twisted little man, it was probably going to be something like 'go take over the world, Alexander the Great did it, so you can, too'.

After we were let out of that horrible dungeon, Alexis rolled her eyes, "I swear that man is evil incarnate." Don't ask me why she hung around me, but anyone was better than Kenney. "Not to mention he needs himself a woman."

How does everything with her come back to boys and girls getting together?

"_Kitten_!"

"No…" I whispered, grabbing Alexis' arm, "Tell me that isn't some lady in stilettos and a short skirt."

"Okay then," Alexis said, "Then I'll tell you she's wearing pumps, a tank top, and skin tight jeans. Bye!" And the traitor took off!

I felt her hug me before I saw Grandma, "It took a lot of talking, but I got them to tell me where this school was! And look," she showed me a piece of paper, "That sweet little gray haired man gave me this so I can spend all day with you!"

Oh, goody.

"You really didn't have to Grandma." I started to slowly walk to my next class, which was P.E.-oh man, boys with their shirts off; Arty was going to have a field day!

"Sure, I did! You _are_ my kitten, and I haven't seen you in next to forever! Charlie _insisted_ upon it." Then she whispered closer to me as we made our way to the gym, "This will help me to see what kind of chemistry you two have when no one else is around."

Wasn't she in for a surprise.

There wasn't any chemistry going to go _boom_ as long as three people were in the room (her, me, and _him_). Heck, most the time at school _he_ completely forgot I existed since the whole K'Yo' ordeal was over and done with (Thank God).

* * *

I was relaxing (hiding) without Arty around; after I showed her where Professor Xavier sat to watch the people in the Danger Room they hadn't been able to pry her out of there. She insisted that she stay and see what kind of things they made me do when I was not being shot at. I think the real reason she wanted to stay was all the guys in their tight outfits.

At school, she was truly horrifying. In Miss Reese's class Arty took over and showed everyone how to do various-odd-things with hamburgers and the like. It was one of those things that you just had to be there. In P.E., that lady was more controlled then I thought  
she'd be, she said she didn't look at 'babies' in _that_ way. She wasn't an idiot as to go after jail bait, and _then_ in Mr. Drake's class, she cut up right along with him, and dragged Adrian into it. Corbo used to be such a good kid. Then when I was in there later, I was basically left to myself why they took verbal pot shots at each other (Bobby-Jerk and Arty).

Now, after dinner and ditching my relative on Professor Xavier, I was relaxing by the lake (far _far_ from the boathouse and mansion). Of  
course, it was too good to last.

"Hey there, _kitten_." I opened an eye, not that I really needed to, I knew who it was. The one who in under a week was going to 'feel bad for stringing me along' according to Arty. "What're you doing out here all by yourself?"

I was laying on my stomach, my wings gently resting on the ground and on my back (it still hurt, but not nearly as bad as when the wound was new) with my arms crossed under my face as I relaxed on them.

"Running an experiment to see how long it would be before being disturbed."

_He_ smirked. I told you, smirking seems to be a qualification for living at the mansion. _He_ turned his back to me and picked up some rocks and _attempted_ to make them skip on the lake's surface. One skip and then blub blub they went.

"So, when _is_ your birthday?"

That was random.

"In a few days actually," I replied, shrugging, and then grimaced as my wing reminded me not to try to do that again when it was hurt. "On December 22nd."

"That's got to suck, having it so close to Christmas. I bet people jip you out of gifts."

"Only the cheap people," I shot. He turned around to question me about that remark with the other Xavier School trademark, the raised eyebrow.

"Why do I have a feeling that was a _cheap_ shot at me?"

"How would I know?"

Then there was silence.

And then there was: "You don't like me much do you?"

_His_ question caught me off guard, and if I hadn't been on the ground already I would have fallen on my face. What and why on earth would _he_ think that? _I_ should be the one asking, _not_ him!

"I mean, it's kind of obvious that you have it for someone," have it _out_ for someone, yeah, had 'it' _for_ someone, well genius, you tell me! "And I thought it was me, 'cause I've been working my butt off trying to get it that way, but hey, you can't control people right?"

Tell that to the telepaths.

_And_ then! And _then_! The creep was just going to walk away! Turn tail and run back into the mansion!

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked, picking myself up slowly from the ground. I couldn't look at him or where he was if he was still here, I had to concentrate on not hitting my left wing and sitting up.

"You said you wanted to be alone."

So _he_ was smart and stayed.

"You have all the audacity in the world!" I was learning big words (you spend the time I spent in the med. lab and see if you didn't start picking up on the ten dollar words)! After sitting up, and turning around (more like I fell back on my rear after lifting my body up, hard to describe basically I klutzed up and made it look natural). _He _stared back at me, leaned against a tree and had the whole 'aren't I cool' air about him.

"Do tell."

"Don't worry, I will!" I crossed my legs and gave my best glare. "_You_ are the one who is confusing. One moment I think you -" blush coloring the face, "like me, and then you totally blow me off like you don't even know who I am!"

"Care to give an example."

"_Sure_! I'll make you a _list,_" I fought, "Like, like-" oh man, all I could think about was the almost kisses, that's something I didn't want to bring up because I still wanted to-_ACK_! My mind was betraying me! "Like, the times you teased me when no one else was around."

"Tease you?" _He_ knew what I was talking about; pushed himself off the tree and started to casually walk toward me. "What about  
the way you 'tease' me?" _Me_? What the heck did _I_ ever do? "All the times you let me get close, then something happens or someone  
comes in, and you are suddenly a little kid again. You call me a tease, Kerry, there are a hundred different times I can think about where you've teased me."

Selfish! Self-centered! Table-turning twit!

"I do _not _do that! You're the one that always comes on strong and runs away laughing his head off." By this time he was right in front of me, just when I was about to spring to my feet and yell more at him (okay, so not _spring_, probably would have asked for his assistance to get up), he dropped down, leaned on one knee and rested an arm on the bended knee.

"If you don't tease," _he_ continued, as if I wasn't fussing at him, "then what do you do?"

Wasn't he just the inquisitive one this evening (big word number 2!).

What could I do? Get severely annoyed with _him_ when _he_ acted like he was in junior high!

"I-I want you to stop being such a wimp!" Okay, with a remark like that, I should be the one going back to sixth grade. Oh man, pretty soon I was going to start that whole 'like-like' stuff again. I didn't even know where 'wimp' came from, I knew _he_ was built to dole out black eyes, but sometimes the way he acted he hadn't the spine for it—just like I was not supposed to have a heart (according to the lovely gentlemen right in front of me).

"A wimp?" _He_ seemed even shocked about this. "You think I'm weak?"

"No," I muttered, my own nervousness about him being so close coming out strong in my voice.

"That I'm stupid?"

"Sometimes."

_He_ smiled in a way that made what was left of my brain throw up its hands in defeat, pack its bag and say 'so long'.

"That I'm—indecisive?" _  
_

_Ding-ding_! We had a winner.

"Uh-huh." I told you my brain went away, with every question he moved in a bit closer. I was sort of trapped, my wings were semi-spread because of the bandage on my left one (my right one was a 'monkey see-monkey do' type wing apparently) and I couldn't get up without us bumping. Not like I _wanted_ to get up mind you.

As if the smile, the closeness, and the aloneness weren't doing wonders in making me the living jelly Kookie, then when _he_ dropped his voice into this distinctly masculine, toe-curling timbre, it was _more_ than enough.

"What do you want from me, Kerry?"

I shook my head, my heart was doing a square dance with my stomach and both seemed to be shrinking in size with ever step. _He_, in one quick motion, moved away and stood up. I was about to (my brain was called back when anger took over) shout at him, when _he_ had extended a hand to help me up. I grumbled in my mind, accepted it, was hauled into a standing position, expecting him to smirk and walk away.

He didn't.

He didn't even let go.

Instead, he kept my hand in his, and bent it behind me, using both of our arms to get me closer to him. Where was his other hand? By its partner, on my lower back (no, not _that_ low, I was not _that _ kind of girl thankyouverymuch). If he thought that after having us being so close, that _he_ was going to do that 'walk-away' bit, then he'd be in the Professor's wheelchair for the rest of his life. _If_ I let him continue to breath.

"Is this what you want, Kerry?"

My brain was quietly eating popcorn in my skull watching the show through my eyes.

"For me to be with you like this?"

If he was waiting for an answer, he would have to-to-heck, there was going to be _no_ answer. I couldn't formulate any coherent thoughts in my brain beside: 'he's close, warm, and very, _very_ nice right now' and 'nice' covered the physical aspects and his attitude.

Don't ask me where I got enough sense to nod, but I did and he let my captive arm go but he kept his on my back.

And then he leaned down.


	46. Leaving?

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 046**

* * *

"Kurt, you _suck_!" That's right, no 'Mr. Kurt' for this guy. I swear he lived to interfere!

"So you've said," he smiled back at me, flashing white fangs.

"I just don't want you to forget it," I grumbled and another five seconds went by. I thought about what had happened, and then "You _suck_!"

"I'm with her on this one, man, you _really_ suck."_ He_joined in; Kurt's smile got bigger and added a shrug.

"It is a curse! I don't mean to interrupt!" He went into dramatics, "It is a horrible second mutation that the two of you shall never enjoy each other's company!"He got a double glare from me and from _him_.

We were _so_ close! A split second later and we would've..!

"What _do_ you want?" _he_asked, as we all trudged through the forest back to the mansion.

"I told you, Jean wanted to speak with our _engel_," He thought about it, then turned to _him_, "Or is she exclusively yours now?"

_His_scowl turned into a smirk.

"Couldn't it have waited?" I muttered under my breath. _He_ looked over at me—must have heard. Sheesh, I sounded like a typical teenager with the 'raging' hormones and all.

* * *

I thought that being interrupted after waiting over half a year to finally _kiss him _would be the most aggravating part of the night. Apparently not.

Jean

and I had a huge fight about it.

Scott was at the mansion instructing a Danger Room session when Jean and I were all but tearing down the boathouse with our voices and tempers. I got there about ten and by ten-thirty I was slamming the door and wishing my wing was healed so I could fly away from this place.

Let me go back. When I got to the boathouse, the conversation started off friendly enough, but when she put on her 'mother crown' and started to tell me 'what's up', it quickly swirled into a teenager-always-wrong-adult-always-right fight. I never pictured _Jean_ as much of a shouter, but she was…to some small extent at least. I was the one who raised their voice first.

She

found the _nerve_ to say inner-school romances were not promoted and my focus shouldn't be on guys, but _on_ school and mastering my mutant ability. I was floored by what she had to say, and then I was _mad _by what she had to say. I pointed out that her and Scott had an inner relationship, of course that garnered a long-time-ago,-times-are-different argument from _Jean_.

"We are only thinking about what is best for you," she tried a couple of times. "I know you've been distracted by a certain someone, and it would be best if you didn't concentrate on that right now."

I glared at her. I _hated_ her at that moment. I was at this school to learn to _adapt_ to being a mutant and how control my powers so I wouldn't _accidentally_kill anyone (what was I going to do, pluck a feather and tickle them to death?).

"I don't remember signing anything that handed over my life to you."

She bristled under that, "By law, I am your guardian."

"But you're _not_my mother."

"No, I'm not bloodthirsty enough."

I was about to fly through the roof with the steam billowing from of my ears. I was _really_jealous of Scott at the time because I wanted to eye-beam this lady through the wall (several walls). Instant regret surfaced on her face, but mad people didn't tend to react to this in the happiest of manners. What, like I was supposed to say, 'oh, I see you're sorry, so it's okay.'

"Kerry, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Then why don't you just cut and clip my memories, you don't have a problem with _that_," I was referring back to Kenney. She must have really done something with his head; he didn't chase any of the girls anymore, was quiet in class, and actually _studied _for his tests instead of cheating. Not to mention she just _really_ irritated and _hurt_ me.

Again, the fiery eyes, "I did what I did to that boy to _protect_you."

"When I need it, I'll ask for it," I snubbed. "I only asked for a ride." And those dang tears started to burn at the end of my eyes.

"If that's the way you want it, Kerry. Fine."

"Fine." I did the complete bratty I-am-better-than-you head motion, "Thanks."

I made sure it was soaked in sarcasm so she'd completely ignore the way I just been stabbed in the heart. I was just starting to trust this _chick_ and then she turned around and brought up a _very _painful subject.

With that, I slammed the door and started to march to the mansion (too bad I was going the wrong direction). There was no one strong enough on earth to ever make me apologize to that woman. I had a severe problem with _'mother'_figures in my life.

I was just happy to get away from her before I started to cry, it wasn't that I was sad, just hurt.

* * *

"I'm so stupid. I'm _so_ stupid. I'm _so stupid_."

It was my mantra as I walked along another barely worn path going somewhere I hoped was either to the mansion or to a place where a cave was located…something! I stomped off into the night like a mad girl and of _course_ it decided _that_ night to start to _snow_!

Not only was it _cold_ but it also brought along wind. And so, I was stuck on the ground, freezing, and not having a clue where I was going. I thought I was headed in the direction of the mansion when I left _Jean's_ but apparently I wasn't and I'd been wandering around in the woods ever since.

There were two options, one was to try and find a surveillance camera and attempt sign language (there was no audio, only visual), option two was to 'call' _Jean_ on the 'brain wire,' swallow my pride and ask her for her help.

That

wasn't very likely.

In fact, it wasn't going to happen!

Surely Arty or _he_would notice I wasn't back and bring it to everyone else's attention.

Maybe.

Why did the telepath have to go and tick me off?

Okay, so that's not very nice, but neither was the whole 'bloodthirsty' mother bit.

It was a _cheap_shot.

And what right did she have to tell me how to run my life? I was sick of everyone trying to tell me what to do and everything without asking me what I thought first, or at any time for that matter! I wanted to be closer to _him_ because _he_ wasn't all that bad. _He_ had his moments where I'd like to hurt him, but there were other times, like right before _Jean's_little 'come hither' call interrupted us.

And because 'inner' relationships were not looked upon happily (for me or everyone I didn't know) they were going to take away those happy moments as well!

No, I couldn't contact _Jean_. I'd yell at her (in my mind) so hard I would hope it gave her a big bloody nose.

Then another gust of wind ruffled my damp feathers, I was going to die out here! If not, I was going to kill someone back there. Not literally, just in my mind. Many, _many_ times in many, _many_colorful ways, and I would want them to 'experience' it all with my 'loud thoughts'.

When'd I become so sadistic?

Must be my 'mother Summers' coming out in me.

At this thought I smiled like a wild cat. Wouldn't she love to hear that!

* * *

I found the mansion, _finally,_a little past three. I was shivering and wet and by the time I was able to open the door my teeth were chattering so hard I thought they'd break. I walked into the mansion and made a bee line for the fire place in the first floor 'family' room. I would really avoid anything with the word 'family' on it, but it had instant heat and this ball of frozen Kookie dough needed the thawing!

I thought everyone would be asleep, but there was one of them in the family room. Knocked out cold with a blanket half draped over him with an arm over his eyes._ He_looked cute when he was sleeping, if you totally ignore the fact that he was snoring.

Again, I was a frozen Kookie who was also sopping wet, so I shrugged off my coat and dropped to my knees in front of the fire. _This_ must have woken him up (I guess hearing a 'plop' and a _wham_would do that) because the snoring stopped.

"Kerry?" No, it's Mr. Warren, just extra crispy. "Where the _hell_have you been?"

Then the couch squeaked and he was beside me, giving me the whole 'concerned look' by putting his hands on my shoulders and forcing me to face him. "You're like ice!"

No, really? Ya _think_?

I would have answered him out loud with all the smart aleck comments that were running through my mind, but I was too cold to waste energy on that. I was more than thankful when he pulled me close (not like earlier kind of close, like 'here's some body heat before you turn Dr. Hank's color and get him jealous' kind of close) and began to rub my now naked arms.

"I thought you were at Jean's. Where have you been?"

"W-w-w-woods," I chattered out, trying to steal more of his heat and the fire's. "Got lost."

"Dummy." Thanks for your compassion! "Why did you do that? I called Jean when you didn't come back, and she said you walked out 'needing time to think' or some other chick explanation." Why do I have the distinct feeling that _Jean_ _knew_I was in trouble and wanted me to rot out there in the woods?

"I didn't get lost on purpose," I corrected once my teeth stopped knocking together and the shivering subsided a bit. "And I have a good hunch that Jean let me stay out there, going the wrong way and freezing my rear end off."

"Jean wouldn't do that," He defended. Must be the default mutant ability for guys to go ga-ga all over her and do whatever it was she wanted. I pushed away from him.

"You don't believe me?" I was completely astonished and in a _major_ way I felt betrayed. _He_looked at me in the eyes for about ten seconds and then looked away.

"I don't think Jean would do that is all." He was so _dumb_! I started to get away from him as quickly as I could, pushing him away. "Hey, where are you going now? You're still half frozen!"

"I'm going," I climbed to my feet, "to go complete freezing for much as you care." I was getting _sick _of this fighting and 'misunderstanding' crap that kept floating around in my life. Of course when I was trying to make a grand exit with my nose stuck up in the air, I should have first made sure about not tripping over my own discarded coat!

Wham

!

"Looks like your legs are still frozen." Leave it to _him_to be there when I embarrassed myself.

My pride was quickly burned out with the deep red blush going from chest to cheeks. Then I felt the tears start to well up again, I had missed the time I was supposed to take my pain killers and my hurt wing was now throbbing with sharp pain.

I hated being weak.

What was worse was that I had to get his assistance to get up, and not only on my feet but he didn't let go and walked me up the stairs and past my door. _This_ confused me a lot.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking at my door and then _him_ again.

"I don't know about you but I'm not going to explain to your Grandmother why _I_ am bringing you to your room when you are half-dressed and soaked." And extremely cold, _really _extremely cold. "Besides, you weren't the only one who got the lecture about how wrong it is for us to be –interested in each other."

He led me to his door, opened it, and guided me to his bed (no funny ideas now, I mean that!).

"So why risk ticking them off?"

Grabbing one of his shirts and pair of shorts, he threw them at me and he gave me that knee-weakening smile (making me completely forget about the whole Jean thing for a nanosecond).

"What? Miss an opportunity to tick everyone off who is getting their feathers ruffled? Excuse the expression." Afterward, he said he was going visit Dr. Hank's lab and try to get me something for the pain. _He_ added before leaving, "Not to mention, if Jean let you wander about for so long, this will really make her regret it."

I guess he had a point and I had to get dressed.

* * *

If the sirens going off (_again)_at four in the morning hadn't woke me up, my adoring Grandma's reaction to them sure would have!

"There_ are_ easier ways to kill an old woman than scaring her to death! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack so you can give me mouth to mouth?" There was a rapid succession of '_No_!' some with the word 'heck' in front of it, and then there were grunts which meant the same thing.

I didn't know what was going on except that there was trouble and this was the X-Men P.A. system to let everyone (in this house and the next!) know to get their hinnies down to the hanger in less than two seconds.

"What" I yawned, "what is it?" I asked, dragging myself up in a sitting position.

"What else? Trouble." He looked back at the annoyed face I was giving him. "Hold on a sec, I'll find out." He then disappeared. I grabbed the defluffed Stitch, which took up residence under _his_ pillow, snuggled down in his bed, and attempted to go back to sleep.

"Where is my Ker-kitten?"

Oh,_ crap._

She would notice I was missing when I was in _his_ room, wearing _his_ clothes, and sleeping in _his _bed.

"I think she spent the night at Scott and Jean's." Thank you!

"Oh, darn, I was hoping you took a hint!" I slapped my hand against my face. This is how he found me when he returned to the room before slamming and locking the door.

"Its big trouble apparently, everyone but you and your 'Granny' have been called into action." _Whoa_. That was a big problem then. If they were calling D-M out, too…._ouch_, I would hate to see that morning girl having to hit someone. Knowing how completely odd she was, she'd probably ask them if she could hit them, and then end up apologizing for it!

That was just the type of girl she was.

For being a 'Daisy-Mae' it would be more fitting to call her 'Pansy-Mae' when it came to physical conflict.

While all my musing was occurring, apparently _he_ had no problem _stripping_in front of innocent girls such as myself.

"_Hey_!" I yelped, clenched my eyes shut, grabbed the pillow I was using (smelled like him, yum—uh, well—nevermind) and buried my face in it. Not that it was a _bad_ sight, just one that I didn't feel comfortable with seeing at the moment.

"Sorry about that."

I didn't say anything.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't like I was completely nude ya know."

Still no response. Then I felt weight on the bed and my pillow being removed (trust me I fought it!). "You are _so_ stubborn." He grumbled after successfully taking my pillow away from me. I felt my cheeks go scarlet and my memory of what was _under _his black suit come rushing back to me. I blushed even more.

"Was it that bad to look at?" _he_asked, smiling down at me. I didn't want to say 'yes' for fear of him going all closed case on me again, and I didn't want to say 'no' encase I boosted his ego so much he didn't fit through the door. "Come on, get up. When I leave you can sneak out. I think you're Grandma followed Gambit down to the hanger. At least that's where I think her drool trail led."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever."

"_Or_," he leaned over me, our noses almost touching, "you can stay here and wait for me. I don't mind."

I sucked in and bit down on my lower lip.

"I—I don't think I should push my luck," I whispered low, the urge to sit up a little and close the gap between our lips grew in strength with every heartbeat.

His lips tweaked to the side, giving a soft smirk before he pulled back.

Helping me on my feet, we walked to the door and he peeked out again. "Coast is clear; I'm going to get an earful about being late. But if it's such 'big trouble' they'll wait." He smiled once and turned to go.

I grabbed him, _he_didn't seem to understand so I felt bold (or was still half asleep and thinking I was in a dream) and tried to make him understand.

"I just-" I felt the blush creeping across my cheeks as I looked down at my feet, "be careful is all." I felt _so_ stupid at this point.

He

went to say something, or do something, and then, like always, we were interrupted. This time it wasn't a blue teddy bear with a pointed tail.

"Has anyone had contact with Blyt?" Came Scott's voice through the comm. link _he_wore, "If anyone sees her, or has enough guts to wake her up, and then bring her down to the war room."

I snorted at that remark, I wasn't _that _mean when I woke up. Tapping _his_ comm. link before _he_ could, "I _heard _that!"

* * *

"Why isn't Kookie coming with us?" D-M asked innocently enough.

"She's hurt you idiot!"

"So?"

Chris rolled his eyes, and Adrian sighed. Adam stood silent in the corner watching the little tête-à-tête between the people he called his team.

"Adrian is correct, Blyt will not be coming with us as she needs time to heal."

"Let's not forget to also babysit Grandma," Bobby-Jerk chirped in.

"So she's a little—excitable," I commented flippantly.

"She's not excitable, she eccentric," Stacey snapped. I glared at her, she smirked at me and the Professor shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Thankfully, Scott began explaining the mission, which I still didn't know why I had to be down there to hear it; and was falling asleep leaned up against a counter when I locked eyes with _that_ woman.

Jean

looked at me for a brief second before looking away with an angry expression. Oh too bad for you! I was just as ticked as you were, _sweety_. I 'humphed' and leaned back as much as I could on the counter top.

"For the newer students, your leaders' example should be followed." Storm cut in after everyone started to leave.

"And what exactly is that? To get shot and play hooky from school for a week?"

"Chris! You are _so _lame," D-M muttered.

I glared at him long and hard. He only smirked, stuck out his tongue, and then when he turned to go-_bam_! Right into the door frame!

I burst out laughing at his little stunt as he constantly told me to shut up (with a swelling tongue that made it even funnier), "At least I got hurt on the _field_and by a gun instead of by myself and losing to a door."

"_Thut_-_up_!"

* * *

"Grandma?" I asked as I staggered into the kitchen. I didn't care what they thought I'd do, but no one was home and that meant this Kookie wasn't going to school! I might have to 'set examples' by being the 'leader' but I'd be danged if I wasn't going to be a teenager who skipped school when given the opportunity on a silver platter!

So back to me in the kitchen, once I was there, Arty was buzzing around.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making breakfast for you, kitten." She smiled and then got that 'run for it men!' wistful look about her, "I wouldn't mind if I was making it for one of those fine gentlemen for a breakfast in bed deal."I shuddered to think about her and the Professor feeding each other grapes and looking lovingly into each other's eyes. I would have said Gambit, but I know my Grandma would have been six feet under before the first grape was plucked thanks to the ever possessive Miss Rogue.

"Of course," I muttered, dragging myself over to the breakfast table."By the way, where were you last night?" Oh no, she got the adult voice thing going. "I swear I thought I heard you come in, but then when they tried to kill me earlier," when the alarm sounded, "You weren't there.

"I, uh, spent the night with someone."

She got _that_ look in her eye. I should learn to keep my big mouth _shut_!

"Oh really? Well it's nice to know that _one_ of us had a warm bed last night."

"It's not like that! He slept fully-" _Crap!_

Arty didn't say a single word, only smiled and started to whistle something that sounded suspiciously like 'Love Me Tender'.

"Of course I don't want you ruining the plans for the end of this week, missy."

"I don't think we need to-"

"Oh, like fire we do! Think about it, sweetheart, if you let him think he has you wrapped around his finger, then you will be. Play hard to get and he'll hold you by the hand instead.""You sound like a country song, Grandma."

Arty tipped her head and smiled.

"As long as it's by that cute, tight-butted George Straight, then I'll start singing my advice."

I rolled my eyes as she put the food in front of me. It was better than cereal or another stinkin' banana. Grandma's chocolate-chocolate chip pancakes were to _die_ for.

"Oh and kitten, I won't be here for about two days. I forgot something in another state and have to go pick it up before they ship it back."

"You're leaving? When?" I didn't mean to sound _too_excited.

"In a few minutes. Don't you worry though, I'll be back by Friday so our little plan will work out!"As I sat there munching on my food and praying I didn't end up with two million cavities, it hit me—I was going to be _all_ alone in the mansion for the first time since I got here.

What else could that mean but-_revenge_!


	47. All alone at last!

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 047**

* * *

Like a wild cat on the prowl, I hunted for things in which to get my revenge.

I had several ideas swimming around in my head, evolving from tadpoles to horned toads with pitch forks.

In the brief moments after Grandma had booked it out of here (like a flunked out nun after a group of Chip n' Dale dancers) I quickly went to the control room and cut all the feed from the surveillance cameras. I'd get my feathers chewed out later, but they _were not_ here at the moment! The mansion was _mine_

And I was going about to go nuts!

At first I was _so_ happy that I went around (after the cameras were off) screaming and jumping on the couches. After two seconds of reckless thinking, I then decided to wreak havoc on the bedrooms of my fellow teammates.

I tore upstairs to the men's wing, but then I made a U-turn and went for the women's side instead. I didn't visit the 'girls' dorm' often because after getting so used to cologne, sweat, and beer smells, perfume, soap, and air fresheners was _way_ too sweet and made my stomach turn (I still used soap! Don't get me wrong about that! There were times I thought I was the _only_ one who did!).

I hadn't lived on this hall for a _long_ time and so trying to remember where everyone's room was wasn't the easiest thing for me to do, until I saw the roster pinned to the wall. I forgot that most people on this side of the house were actually _organized_. Scanning the list, I smirked, took the marker from the 'Bathroom Duty' board and began to scribble on the roster.

Miss Rogue? I think she could take a joke, so she got a circle.

Stacey?

Hmm, she'd mentioned once that _he_ made me 'bothered' and that was enough reason for me _not_ to say anything. I didn't need to boost his ego no matter how small or large it was. She got an X through her name.

Miss Oreo? I shrugged. I watched her fry Bobby-Jerk and Adam before for separate reasons, but her reactions were priceless.

Paige? That _slave_ driver. She still made me keep up with my 'lessons on skin tearing' despite the fact I was _shot_ and _traumatized_! Did she care? Nope! She got her room circled several times. Not to mention I think she had it _bad_ for my flight instructor, Mr. Warren.

Daisy-Mae? Need I even ask? She got circled.

Sheesh, compared to the male half of the mansion we were almost outnumbered 2:1!

I was sure D-M _loved_ those odds!

Considering I had the _whole_ day to do whatever it was I wanted, I didn't know exactly what to do, or who to do it to first, so I went to the first door (which just _happened_ to be D-M's) and decided to go exploring in the girly-girl depths of the pink cave of gooey fluffiness.

Flicking on the lights, the normal assaulting sights filled my vision. The only cool poster the girl owned was of one of my favorite singers, DAS. The rest were still as they were when I had to actually sleep in here.

When I was halfway in, I kicked something and sent it flying into her closet door. Going over and picking it up, I shivered when I realized what it was. Then I noticed several holes in her closet door, from the inside going out. Being the curious 'kitten' (that was how I got that ridiculous nickname) I opened it up, and my jaw dropped. Well, all my questions were just answered by what was hanging on D-M's dart board.

This girl was freaky!

I was not talking about the sugary sweetness type freaky (come on, after you live with it for so long, it's almost _routine_) but this was a _whole_ new level of freak on the Kookie scale!\

I didn't want to pull a dumb prank like Drake did and destroy property, just do something to annoy the powder-puff princess, but then I looked at the dartboard again.

Perhaps I shouldn't annoy her _too _much.

* * *

Paige's room got a huge X through it as I left it.

It was an old trick my friends back in Washington told me about. The fridge had been raided, and many things used in this room. I finished most of the people's room on this side. Next up was Miss Rogue's and the best thing I could think to do wasn't the worst that I could do, just something in general. So I hunted down several things and decided to mess up something.

More annoying than anything else, like mixing up her hundred or so movies by switching their covers and setting her TV and radio on 'high' so that when she turned them on again-well, her cursing would probably be drowned out by the racket-I hoped. Then her alarm, I switched it to just after three in the morning, like I did with everyone else's. Oh yeah, not to mention dumping and mixing all their clothes in one huge pile in the middle of the bathroom floor.

I was so going to hang for this!

I told you it was petty, but hey, it was something. Also the CDs, I mixed and matched all those (more mixing than matching). From her computer I took one of the wires and tucked away in the bottom of her closet. I was being a brat, but considering what I did to the other females' rooms, this was nothing.

After I was done there, I smiled as I left that half of the house and went back to the oh so familiar 'guy' wing. I looked around the place and wondered where to start off.

Bobby-Jerk.

I still owed him _big_ time for messing around with all my stuff. I would include Chris in this, but he was also on my 'hit' list before I was going to retire and then find a place to hide. Going into the beloved (_puke_) Mr. Drake's room, I scouted out his grade book. I might be flunking _now_, but just wait until I was finished rearranging the grades and boosting some, while dropping others significantly.

You could almost hear the Grinch theme song going on behind me as I completed the normal petty activities, and added some new ones to this guy's room.

This was too much fun!

* * *

The phone wouldn't stop ringing. It was around three in the afternoon and I was loading my plat with whatever sweets I had unearthed in other people's rooms, and my brain was about to be swamped with meaningless television programs.

But back to the phone, it hadn't stopped ringing for the past twenty minutes.

The machine picked up again, and, again, the person hung up. I rolled my eyes. I would say it was rude, but then again, I didn't like talking to machines either and tended to do the same thing. By the time I was ready (and balanced) to make my way to the rec. room, the phone started up again.

Huffing in annoyance, I put my stuff down and picked up the receiver.

"This is the answering machine, talk or we will trace your call and break your fingers for dialing our number in the first place." I used a deeper, sterner voice (Scott anyone?).

"Excuse me?" Came a surprised female voice I didn't recognize, "Bobby, if this is your idea of a joke…"

I wanted to laugh, and decided to play like I was him, just because I was in the mood to be vicious, "Sorry, but I got my testosterone pills mixed up with Mi-Rogue's estrogen pills and my voice just hasn't been then same since yesterday."

Don't ask me where it came from, but my face felt like it was about to crack in two because of the devious smirk I wore.

"I—see." The female then cleared her voice and began to talk, "This is Valerie, and I was wondering if I could talk to-"

"Valerie who?"

"Cooper. Valerie Cooper, Bobby. And I don't feel like playing your little games right now, so just listen."

Oh, did she say the wrong thing in the wrong tone, "I'm sorry for you then, you might want to call back when someone is here who actually cares." And then I hung up. But the name 'Valerie Cooper' sounded so familiar. I couldn't pinpoint it, and shrugged opting to forget about it instead.

I picked up my stuff and was about to go to watch my shows when that dumb phone rang again. Sheesh, this woman must be used to abuse.

Slamming my stuff down, I yanked up the phone and quite clearly in a nasally voice said, "Summers Sex Shop, where the batteries _are_ included. How may I direct your call? Blow up dolls or whips?"

There wasn't anything for a few seconds and then I about melted on the floor in a puddle of humiliation.

"Kerry, this is Scott."

"Oh crap," I slammed my hand against my head, "Uh, we are all out of redheads?" I was such an idiot. "I thought you were someone else."

"A customer?" He might have made a joke, but it sure wasn't said in a joking manner! "I was calling to see if everything was all right at the mansion since you weren't answering in the command center."

He was worried about me? Maybe he was worried about Grandma being alone with me.

"Uh, everything is still standing?"

"Is your Grandmother there?"

Busted.

"No, actually she left early this morning." Wait, if they were 'on the field' then how the heck was he calling me?

"She did? So you are there—_alone_?"

"No," I began to feel like a ten-year-old left unmonitored at Grandpa's house. "I have Stitch."

"You are alone." Technically, but never figuratively. I wonder if that would have worked? I think I heard it mentioned Xavier had two personalities at one time…"Kookie, I don't think you should be alone in the house."

Why? Was there some freaky invisible man I didn't know about locked away in the basement or something?

"Why not? It's not like anything has happened—uh, by anyone else." Gee, why didn't I just _tell_ them I'd been up to no good.

"I see." In the background I heard Chris shout that the 'bug eating big butted bird brain' better leave his things alone. I growled on the telephone, "Is everything okay?"

"Fine! Everything is fine! Couldn't be better, uh, thanks for calling?" I thought about it for a moment, "Why did you call?"

It was his turn for that weird silence, "Because Jean was worried."

_Liar! Liar! Liar_!

"And she wanted me to call to see if I should contact someone for you and your Grandmother."

"Don't worry about me, I'm keeping myself entertained." He couldn't see it, but I smirked.

"That's what we're afraid of."

* * *

My heart stopped as I hit the pause button on the television in the middle of an _Everyone Loves Raymond_ episode. After a thought, my brain politely rammed my scarred heart with logic. If the voice I just heard came from the front room then the person would have used the front door and since all the little spandex soldiers marched onto their big bad plane— then they would have to have parked the big bad plane on the _lawn_, and that would attract _some_ attention.

In other words, _think stupid,_ raced across my mind. Cautiously I turned the TV off and sneaked around the room to peek out the doorway.

"Mr. Warren?" I only saw huge wings with big white feathers, so my Sherlockian reasoning led me to deduce it was Mr. Warren.

"Kookie, there you are." He smiled and walked up to me. "I came to pick you up."

Many men have tried no one had been strong enough yet.

"Pick me up?"

"Yes, Scott told me you were by yourself and wanted me to take you to New York with me."

"To babysit me in other words?"

He grinned, "I guess you could say that, but I'm not getting paid to do it." If he was, wouldn't that make him an escort?

"But I was having fun here!" I whined, if he was meant to be my babysitter, then I was going to act like a baby.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to make you sit around my office answering _phones_ or anything." I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, apparently Scott told him what I had said when he answered.

"I'll go get my stuff."

* * *

I got to tell you, I thought it was pretty cool having a huge and expensive play house (originally known as the mansion) but being driven around in a fancy limo with a very rich guy (and let's not forget that he _did _have some _very_ handsome looks!) took the cake (or the Kookie in this case-but that was just a bad pun!).

"Where are we going?" I finally asked after I had pressed every button and flipped all the switches.

Mr. Warren had an amused look, "My penthouse, and from there a Christmas party."

Party?

"Okay, so how are you going to watch me if you're at a party?"

His gold eyebrows flattened out and then he said I was going to go with him, not as a date but as someone to keep all the attention off of himself.

"Does that mean I have to wear an image inducer?" Duh.

"Yes, and you'll have to reprogram it to show an older version of yourself. They don't like _kids_ at these parties." Kid? I was not a kid (of course as I thought this I slurped up the last of my Root beer float)

"So you want me to look like my Grandmother?" I asked, a wicked look painting across my features.

There were no words fit enough to describe Mr. Warren's reaction, "That's not even funny, Kookie, don't joke like that."

I smirked, "Sorry must be the people I'm hanging around."

This got any amusement washed away from his face, and I wasn't _even_ talking about him!

* * *

Forget _him_ give me Mr. Warren Worthington the third!

I knew he was a filthy stinking rich, but I didn't realize _how_ filthy stinking rich until I got to this _gigantic_ skyscraper in the middle of New York City that (like a true country bumpkin) I craned my neck all the way back to try to take it all in. For added effect (and embarrassment) remarked, "Wow. That's one big building."

The driver gave me a dumb-tourist/kid look, and brought the bags to the guy at the door (I held on to Stitch, he's such a cute little guy that anyone would want him! And I didn't want to take a chance of him being Stitch-napped again). "So where do you live?"

"On the top." He pointed to where I could barely make out the skinny railing many, many, _many_ feet above my little Washington state native head. Then he lead me (hauled the little kid being all star struck by a big building -all I needed to say was ha-_yuck_) into the building.

"Who else lives here?"

"No one, just me. The penthouse is where I live, and the rest of the building is dedicated office space of Worthington Industries."

"You own this whole _dang thing_?"

"Yes, last time I checked the bill of sale, I own this 'whole dang thing'. You really didn't think I could run a multi-billion worldwide company from my bedroom did you?"

Anything's possible. Heck, I was expecting a _huge_ Christmas gift from this guy! No wonder he had so many big-chested, big-haired, bubble-brains after him! "Wow."

* * *

"What is _with_ you people?" I asked as I slapped another hand away from where I stood on a tiny pedestal with four or five women running around, holding up a dress to me and then taking off again. Mr. Warren (who at this 'party' I was instructed to either call him 'boss', 'Warren,' or 'Mr. Worthington'-I asked him if 'sugar daddy' was appropriate, he spit up his coffee and said I _had_ been hanging around the wrong people) insisted that I have a decent dress for this party. I pointed out that I could wear jeans and t-shirt and used the image inducer and no one would be the wiser, he grunted and said 'no way' in the most sophisticated way I have ever heard.

"She definitely needs something to bring out those green eyes," the oldest lady said, well, I think she was a lady. She looked more like a prune with clothes on than anything else. I mean, come on, her eyebrows weren't really eyebrows, they were tattoos! "Such a beautiful vibrant green."

"I think we have the perfect thing, but it is a bit pricey," the assistant disclosed half-heartedly. Prune lady with tattoo eyebrows stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath.

"Do you _know_ who is here with her to purchase the clothing?" The girl looked confused, "Mr. _Worthington_, one of our best customers. Go get the dress and make sure bring any and all accessories, from shoes to make-up!"

The assistants scattered and brought back everything as instructed. Mrs. Prune shooed them away from the room of mirrors, where I stood cross armed and feeling highly exposed. I did mention that I was in nothing but my bra and panties again, right?

"It's okay now, Miss Summers, please show me yourself."

_What the heck!_? "Uh, uh, I-I don't-think-"

"Oh come now, girl. I know about your being a mutant _and_ your wings, so please remove whatever type of device you are using to conceal them so I can properly match the colors." Mrs. Prune seemed _very_ serious about this, so I nervously reached to my neck were the image inducer was hanging and clicked it off. "Oh my."

Yeah, well, that's not the normal reaction, normal reaction was 'oh, she's a mutant let's shoot her down like a fat duck'.

"Uh, could we hurry this up?" I pleaded.

"Oh yes, of course, it's just so rare that I see Warren's wings, so that any time I see mutant beauty it astonishes me." She smiled, I mean to wear her dentures were showing type smile. "And you need not be so afraid Miss Summers; I too, am in the closet, as it were, about my powers."

That was unexpected! "You're a mutant?"

"Naturally." She picked up the dress and instructed me to put it on. "My powers are more subtle than yours." No kidding. One look at me and everyone _knew_ what I was, one look at this lady and they just got scared. "My powers relate to my job," she continued once I was dressed and I had to say I looked pretty good, too bad _he_ was out of town saving the world or something. "They have to deal with pigments and colors."

"Oh?"

And just like magic, she showed me, looking at the dress and at my eyes she nodded and then touched the dress and it started to become darker.

"I have the ability to change the way colors absorb light, therefore, I affect the color over all. I always have perfect matches for everyone." She preened and stepped away. "I think that will do very well."

And it was actually _modest_!

* * *

Mr. Warren was nice about the whole thing and bought me all various stuff, and I was (jokingly) suggested he should pay for all my Christmas' presents for getting to enjoy my company when I looked like a 'girl girl' and he agreed!

Of course he said that'd be his gift to me, but hey, I'd take what I could from the boy billionaire! So here we were at the stuffy business party, and I was looking like a twenty-something girl with a million dollars invested in my chest (got to love image inducers) when I started to get showed around. While Mr. Warren talked to some people, some nastier ones had looked me up and down and went in for the kill. My right wing wasn't hurt, and with that I nicely _punched_ them away.

Don't worry, I wasn't sending anyone through walls, just into the next person. It was fun for a while.

"Mr. Worthington, it's always a pleasure," most of them called him Warren or something else, and I was wondering how long before I went all Looney Tunes. They were so _fake_ and _plastic_ (literally, I didn't think there was an original nose in the building except my own).

An hour or so into the snorefest, I was escorted over to a _very_ nice looking man. He was late twenties and the type of guy who had a rugged sophistication aura and look about him-in other words a drop dead gorgeous guy with lots of money. The closer I got the better and younger he looked. Mr. Warren seemed to stiffen as he approached this guy with his long white-blonde hair pulled back, and gray eyes._ Man_, he was a beautiful creation!

"Miss Summers, I would like you to meet the president of Dae-Saint Inc, Mr. Donovan St. Loy."

My good sense took a long flight on a short bus (apparently so did my brain) as this St. Loy angel took my hand and instead of shaking it or caressing it like some of the older trolls did, brought it to his lips and ghosted a kiss against my knuckles.

Oh heck, how was I ever going to be able to put one plus one together again?__

He had some serious competition, even though he might not know it. Of course, my luck was that this guy would be gay or have a high-pitched voice or a girlish laugh or _something_.

"Donovan, this is my friend's daughter Miss Summers." Mr. smiled, not a full toothy grin, but one of those secretive and extremely sexy smiles that had this girl willing to do anything he asked. Right then, Mr. Warren, ya know, the other guy that was there (even if the world just went away as this Donovan still held onto my hand) was called away to talk to someone else, but I really didn't care.

"I would like to wish you a happy birthday, although I it may be premature."

Huh? Birthday? What? I was alive? I thought I died and gone to heaven. This guy had a deep, rich timbre (not Mr. Bishop deep, but deep enough to make my estrogen peak). I think Stacey would be disgusted with me at this point.

"Oh, uh, thank you." I was finally able to say as something in me said to answer him instead of just drooling and blurting out 'you're so pretty!'. "H-how did you know?"

"It will be your seventeenth, correct?" Oh, this guy was good but how did he see through the image inducer?

"Yes," I replied and was still baffled about it all when he smiled, let go of my hand, bowed, and walked away. Two seconds later a voice I never wished to hear again totally smashed my happy little world of St. Loy worship.

"Well, if it isn't the new Summers." I felt like anti-freeze had just entered my veins. I turned, and yup, it was the White Witch of the X-men. I didn't remember her name, but I remembered _her_. "Warren dragged you along instead one of his little play toys?" She gave me that icy smirk and suddenly I remembered her name. Frost. How perfect. "Pity, they are more fun to talk to."

I gritted my teeth; I wasn't going to say anything. I was 'representing' Mr. Warren and my 'parents', while all she was representing was display of some doctor's handiwork. She was basically a Barbie gone bad.

"I can see your thoughts, girl, and I should let you know that Donovan has no interests in peons." As the sun wasn't for plastic made women like you who had the high possibility of melting. "Jean hasn't been able to teach you much about building your mental shields has she? Perhaps what you need is a crash course."

I was feeling particularly bratty and as I went to go say something mouthy, and would no doubt have me brain washed by this lovely blood sucking nightmare dressed as a blonde, another voice interrupted, "Play nice, Emma." It was Mr. Warren 'swooping' (ha ha, I made an angel joke) down to save me (really he just walked over, but let's be a bit dramatic).

"Warren, I was just having a delightful little chat with your protégé." She smiled smugly at me, and then in my flippin'_ head_ said,

_/You better beware that your little boyfriend doesn't find out about your rather embarrassing attraction to St. Loy./ _

And then she walked away. _Argh_! Didn't that woman have somewhere she could go and rot?

Or freeze? At this point she was making Bobby-Jerk look like the Humidman instead of Iceman.

Besides that little upset, the rest of the party went smoothly and I even got to try some champagne (okay _almost_ got to try some but Mr. Warren said 'I don't think so' and took it away). Around two in the morning, we climbed back in the limo, and headed on the way back to his condo. I was grumbling about evil White Witches while Mr. Warren was rolling his eyes and laughing at some of my antics.

"Yes, it's a bit hard for us to believe that Bobby found her attractive, even had loved her at one point, probably still does. Sure she has a body to kill for," (more like lust after) so does the blow up doll that I said was on special on the phone. "She has an evil streak."

"I think it would be better to say that she might, _hypothetically_ speaking in some small way, have a streak of niceness in her evil little personality."

"She's not a lady you want as an enemy, so don't be too extreme when she's around."

Extreme? Me? When had I ever been 'extreme'? I was a perfect little angel with black wings (black skin, black hair, etc.) with super strength who would be able to punch that perfect little Ice Queen right back under the plastic surgeon's knife.

Darn reconstructive surgery!

I would love to have seen her walking around with a crooked nose.


	48. Christmas Tidings prt 1

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 048**

* * *

****When I finally decided to leave the big comfy feather bed, (and yeah, I asked Mr. Warren if it was his old feathers—he didn't answer, but gave me a look that told me to stop being dumb) it was around ten o'clock on the lovely of lovely Thursday mornings (lovely 'cause I didn't have to go to school!). It was snowing outside, but Mr. Boy Billionaire had the heater up high, he's such a smart guy, no wonder he's so rich.

But if that ever fell through, he could always try his hand at modeling.

"_Kookie_! Get down here!" Mr. Warren's oh so happy chirp (scream) came and I stumbled my way over my things I had sort of dumped in the middle of his guest bedroom and ran to the top of the stair case.

You could see the entire apartment from the top floor (very open penthouse) including him, and he did not look happy.

It didn't take me long to learn what was wrong: I heard several _highly_ upset voices coming through this television thing on the wall. It must have been connected back to the mansion because it was showing the faces of Chris, D-M, Adrian, Bobby-Jerk, and I could hear several other people's voices coming through.

"I am going to _kill_ that," I was not say that word; I would have blushed, "what the _hell_ did she do with my things?"

That was the basic idea, anyway. Bobby-Jerk wasn't yelling, he was laughing. At least until Mr. Jean-Paul apparently came down with a pair of boxer shorts with Bobby-Jerk's signature and a 'with love' remark on them.

They'd somehow been placed in the Canadian's room.

Putting them on hold, Mr. Warren gave me a very stern look (as stern as one could be, I supposed, while trying not to laugh after Bobby-Jerk's very colorful denial of the boxers), "What exactly did you do?"

"To who?" I asked with a nervous laugh. "You'll, uh, have to be a bit more specific."

He face-palmed, then grumbled something about 'Jubilee Jr', and started to list off the names. I pretty much told him everything without telling him _all_ I did. When he got to the Professor though, he had this sort of please-say-you-didn't edge to his voice.

"I didn't do anything to the Professor's _bedroom_," I confessed. In actuality I'd done it to his office. He'd find a very interesting something of my Grandmother's in his desk drawer in exchange for a piece of paper I took from the same drawer.

Not to mention a little something else I was surprised to find.

After he got back on to the tele-cast and managed to say a few words, he hung up.

"Whatever you did, it was enough that Scott and Jean are coming to pick you up."

Oh man, I didn't want to die!

"B-but we had a deal! You said you'd take me Christmas shopping!" _Now_ I was starting to feel like a bratty four-year-old. Of course, knowing what was waiting for me back at the mansion, I was not past throwing myself (shot wing and all) on the floor, kicking and screaming until I got my way. "What kind of business man would you be to go back on our deal?"

He groaned, and rubbed his eyes with one of his hands.

"I guess I can't send you to your death yet. Maybe if you did return bearing gifts they'd let you live a bit longer."

Yeah, at least until they opened them.

I did have an ace up my sleeve, if they messed with me, then I'd sic Arty on them. She had every male in the mansion playing ninja, with the way they moved and hid to avoid her.

* * *

For Mr. Warren being so clever, he sure was true to his roots sometimes.

As in his _blonde_ roots.

Imagine a man who was silly enough not only to give me a credit card and his car with chauffeur to use to get Christmas gifts, but get this, he wouldn't be coming with me (and to save the receipts). As in I was all by myself and able to do whatever I wanted with this little bit of freedom known as his gold card.

The driver who probably considered me a "girl toy" to Mr. Warren or as a bumpkin tourist sighed heavily as his boss stepped out of limo and told him to take me wherever I wanted. I waited until the door was shut, we pulled away from the curb before I told him where I wanted to go, and then pressed for the partition to go up between us.

Then I busted out laughing.

This was too good!

Of course, after the first couple of common stores, I went to some of the stuck up rich stores. They looked down their noses at me, and I gritted my teeth as they asked if I was his 'niece' or 'cousin' (a.k.a. bed _or_ bath toy). I felt like screaming at them 'does my chest look big enough for that?' but it was really more irritating that they thought Mr. Warren would ever have to _pay_ for a girl to go out with him!

I was halfway through my shopping list when I finally realized why the rich and snobby stores weren't so nice to a rich and snobby credit card. Half the people probably thought I had lost my mind when I busted out laughing in the middle of the lingerie department, right behind this large woman who turned around and looked as if she was either going to threaten to sit on me, or have me for a snack (remember, chicken wings-but they were hidden).

The one drawback to this discovery was that I realized there was probably going to be a limit on it, had it been Mr. Warren's, there would be no limit.

I smirked as I thought of several things I could do with this image inducer of mine and a credit card that was someone else's.

Requesting to go to the mall, the driver rolled his eyes but did as he was told. There was a store I accidentally stumbled into that old, "18 Yum Yum" or something like that. It was the perfect place to get something for Grandma (and who or what she does with the things was up to her and I just did _not_ want to know) and had some payback along with Mr. Warren.

Fiddling with my image inducer, I found the perfect _blonde_ setting to have.

I might have been going around as Kookie Summers thinking I was toting Mr. Warren's credit card, but now I looked like _Emma Frost_ with a credit card with "Robert W. Drake" printed on it.

This was going to be fun….and hopefully on camera.

* * *

After sticking around with a team that basically wore bull-eyes in the middle of their foreheads, you start to pick up some stuff from them.

Like when someone was following you.

I didn't mean one of the wacky ladies or men who chases everyone down with a perfume bottle in their hands swearing up and down that it will turn whoever your after 'on' (most likely 'on' means they will be easy to ignite since I think the main ingredient in those bottles were gasoline), no this was someone else. I was getting creeped out majorly at this point. I was grateful to be in a crowded place and still looking like Emma.

It's funny, in some morbid way, that I could hear Scott's voice telling me about what to do when you were being followed. And that was always to find some way to confront the person without making a scene.

Mr. Logan jokingly (I think) called it the Summers Sixth Sense.

I took off into one of the bathroom halls, and sure enough, without looking back I knew someone was behind me. The clicks of the shoes gave it away. There was no way I was in any condition to fight and whoever it was probably was after _Emma,_ not _Kookie_. I quickly walked into the bathroom, locked it (freaked out the Kit Kat Club of young teenagers that I would have been friends with if Barbie was my role model), found a stall and began to revert the image into my 'normal without wings' state.

As I left the girls looked down their noses at me, but I was used to it. I guess because I wasn't a Bieber or Devito clone want to be. Anyway, when I got out of the bathroom the person who had been following _Emma_ wasn't following me anymore, in fact, they were nowhere to be seen.

Let me tell you, that no matter what, it'd still freak you out enough to want to leave the establishment you were being watched and followed. It was like getting a hug from Bobby-Jerk in his ice form or having one of Adrian's metal finger knives slowly going down the back of your neck.

Just deciding to jump ship, I was glad to have a cell phone to call the driver. It was a little bit before I was supposed to be at Mr. Warren's _other_ office building to have dinner with him (I was thinking pizza).

* * *

"Can I help you?" Came this little snotty voice from behind a computer screen when I stepped off the elevator. I think there was a woman behind there, but who could tell?

"Uh, I'm here to see Mr. War-_thington_?" Oh yeah, that's not obvious.

"Do you have an appointment?" The lady poked her head from around her monitor. She gave me this total 'where's-your-parents-little-girl' look. "We already bought from the Girl  
Scouts."

I glared at her, "Mr. Worthington is expecting me."

"I'm sure," she shot back, her nose stuck up so far in the air I was surprised she hadn't inhaled the ceiling.

Fine, if she wanted to play hard ball, I'd simply cheat. Image inducers allowed you to do that you know. So I stomped my foot, turned and marched out of the office, found a secluded spot to 'change' (I was feeling like Superman-_sheesh_). And _viola_! Emma Frost was present.

I smirked when I walked in where the annoying lady was still sitting. She saw 'Emma' and about lost her cool.

"M-Miss Frost!" She stuttered like a female Porky Pig. "I-I'll tell Mr. Worthington you are here."

I crossed my arms and smirked, I could get used to the power of the image inducer. I guessed this was what the Professor had been talking about when he mentioned 'misuse' of it. But how the heck else was I going to see my 'babysitter' if the guard at the desk wasn't going to let me in? Judo-flip her? _Riiight_, that'd sit right with everyone.

When Mr. Warren came out the door, he had the cutest _'huh'_ expression about him but showed me into his office nonetheless. After he shut the door, and I was past the whole whoa-was-this-a-big-office' phase, I turned to him; he had one blonde eyebrow raised.

"You have any idea how degrading it is for me to do this?" I asked, flicking off the image inducer and sighing heavily.

He too seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, "Kookie, you're back earlier than I thought." Mr. Warren said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't as much fun as I thought when I found out I had a card with a credit _limit_."

He grinned at me.

Once a boy, _always_ a boy.

* * *

The closer we got to the mansion, the more nails I chewed. When I was done with all ten, I started to braid my hair. By the time we pulled up to the door, I had a zillion braids and a puddle of sweat (not really) in the seat. I was _so_ going to die.

"Please don't make me go in," I whined and Mr. Warren only shook his head and dragged me out of his car. I was about ready to bolt but his grip was _very_ firm and I gave him my best puppy dog expression, "Will you come to my funeral?"

"Don't worry about it Kookie, Bobby has done much worse in his lifetime." He tried to be encouraging. I felt my stomach drop. One of the main things I hadn't told him was about was what I did to the heater…

"If it isn't the little fugitive come to reap what she sowed." Chris cracked his knuckles in mock intimidation ( come on, once you'd seen a guy drooling on his pillow in a pair of _ick_ Pepe LePew boxers, he lost all my respect -not that he had it to begin with). I was about to go at him with a smart aleck reply when the last person I thought I'd see came shouting (happily) down the staircase and grabbed me up in a bear hug as others started to come out of wood work (mostly from the danger room area).

"My _protégé_!" Bobby-Jerk was the one who had me in a hug; I became like a statue and didn't budge, every muscle tense. "I'm so proud of you! You're finally starting to learn something from me!" I saw Scott and _Jean_ come from the kitchen area, and my eyebrows rose quickly. Before letting me go, Bobby-Jerk whispered quickly in my ear, "Don't worry, I'll get you back." Hit me on my shoulder and went into the large family room.

"There she is!" Paige came storming down the stairs and I hid behind Mr. Warren, usually when she saw him, she went to jelly. "What'd ya do to my room?"

Oh-kay, anytime when she wasn't about to breathe fire from her nose she went to jelly.

"O-uh, uh" That was my wisecrack. Wasn't it wise? You could just feel my eyes roll.

Paige was about to tear into me again when Mr. Warren came to my rescue by distracting her with a laugh about it. _This_ had her going 'oh well' and paying attention to the boy billionaire. As I moved to the family room, I paused in front of the door. Not because of anything other than every known mutant on the face of the planet seemed to be stuffed into there.

"What's going on?" I asked one of the faces I knew (Adrian), and he shrugged saying something about a Christmas party and a need to share body heat.

I acted like I didn't know a thing when I heard accusations about a 'broken' heater.

But, when no one else was looking, I smirked. Sure I would be made to suffer this by freezing, but heck, at least in this type of torture I wouldn't have to suffer alone.

About an hour or so, I bumped into this _mountain_ of a guy (besides Mount Mr. Bishop), he looked down at me, and no matter how tall I was, I shrunk. He had white hair and this whole glowing eye thing going on, while I, I was having heart failure.

"Hello, Kookie." Correction, I was a speck on the ground formally known as Kookie. Then he reached out a _metal_ arm and I must have jumped back from it (okay DUH, I still had very clear memories of a big shiny _gun_

shooting at me from my first "adventure" in the Danger room). "It doesn't bite."

So I did my laugh nervously and shake the _big_ metal arm. It was just as strong as I thought it would be but the freaky thing was that it was _warm_. Like a car hood after the engine had been running under it for a while.

"I'm Nate" I was impressed? "Nate Summers, I heard that you were now part of the 'clan'." Clan? I never heard it put _that_ way. I hoped it didn't require any animal sacrifices. "I take it you haven't heard about me?"

If it was any consolation to the hulking guy, I "haven't heard" about a _lot_ of these people. Some of the ones who were flying around, pinning up reindeer cut outs and such, I had never seen in my life, and if I did it was no wonder why I blocked them out. Apparently they didn't know the whole song of the 12 days of Christmas and began to make up their own variation.

He smiled at me, "I'm Scott's son."

..?

How the _heck_? Who was Scott's plastic surgeon if this guy who was _older_ than Scott was his freaking son! Wait, did he adopt him, too? But why would a thirty-something-year-old adopt a much-older-something-year-old?

Before I was able to ask anything, Scott walked over and said I was going with him and Jean to get the tree.

I was about to say I didn't want to when I figured at least the truck had a heater.

* * *

You know my luck. Why must I even say that out of all the multiple vehicles jammed and parked every which way in the large garage, we took an old clunker that I think was probably the Professor's first vehicle (it was that old) and we were lucky the engine didn't drop out from underneath us, much less have poor Scott.

_Jean_ insisted _she_ drive and I silently insisted on being by the door (to be away from _Jean_) and that left mighty-leader-man-father figure in my life jammed in the middle. If anyone had ever seen a cartoon when their anger showed by a type of 'glow' then I was sure we looked like the sun on wheels. Apparently saving the world didn't ebb her anger, and having a good time in New York didn't help mine! It was temporarily forgotten, but one look at _Jean_ and _bam_! Here all that anger came again.

"So, Kookie, did you like it in New York?" Scott tried to start up a conversation but it was always quickly shot down. I went back into my 'fine' mode.

"It was fine."

"Get all your Christmas shopping done?" Okay, that one you couldn't answer with 'fine' or anything short so I crossed my arms and must have been one of those telepathic talks happening between the two of them because Scott snorted and looked over at me. At least I_ think_ he looked over at me, I was not really sure. Who the heck could tell with those glasses? Suddenly I got a mental image of Scott giving orders with his eyes crossed.

I didn't know why I thought it was so funny. But I just got the picture of him being all in "large and in charge" sounding strict and behind those glasses his eyes were crossed and looking goofy."What's so funny?" Scott asked, probably worried I had inhaled too much of the exhaust or something.

I kept on giggling; this was just as bad as picturing Wolverine in a tutu or Dr. Hank as a skinny, boney bear if ever he got shaved. I had odd thoughts, and I hadn't learned to keep them completely quiet because _Jean_ started to laugh when I had Mr. Bishop frolicking through a meadow with a crown of flowers on his head.

Scott looked over at _Jean_, back to me and then to _Jean_ again.

"Could someone please tell me what is going on?"

She must have decided to share my little mental dress up (and no I didn't mind because for once I thought it was funny enough to share) and he tried not to laugh, honestly you could see it in his face he tried to hold it in, but before long he was cracking up with us.

Odd way to break the tension, but you didn't see Scott's little 'dress up' of Jean-Paul playing "house" and Bobby-Jerk screaming his head off, tied up to a chair. Or when _Jean_ had Adam in his reptile form singing 'Tip Toe Through the Tulips'.

It was just _too_ great.

* * *

One good thing about having a lot of people at the mansion was that when you get back from shopping there were a lot of people willing (and unwilling but had to do it anyway) to help. When I got back inside with a bag of groceries (the Professor actually was going to allow _all_ kinds of sweets to be made-_except_ gingerbread men, this I didn't understand-but Chris was rolling with laughter) it almost felt like -Jerk was making ice sculptures on the front lawn.

Chris was stuck in the middle of a mess of lights, going through and trying to separate the ones that didn't work from the ones that did, and everyone knew how long that took. Professor was trying to shoo Jubilee (I think) away from him. She'd decorated his chair to look like a sled with tiny reindeer in front. Mr. Logan was all dark and brooding until he had to help, uh, 'trim' the tree in certain areas to help it fit. The tree was about twenty feet high for anyone who was interested; we must have looked like an undercover truck driving through the city because all you saw was _pine_ everywhere. I was actually kind of freaked out about how _Jean_ would see, but then all mysterious were solved when the tree suddenly had a slight blur to the air around it."Kookie, your Grandmother is back." I turned around and saw an unhappy looking man. I didn't even think he knew me, much less Arty. "She's upstairs."

"Uh, thanks…?" I looked at him and waited for him to give me a name, but instead he nodded and walked toward the secret downstairs part of the house (also known as Death Room Central-the Danger Room). He looked interesting, long ponytail of red-blonde hair and a star tattoo. Sheesh, what a buncha odd people.

Deciding not to 'mingle' until I had my relative 'under control' I made my way up to my room (after shoving the bag in Adrian's hands) and about died.

No, I didn't trip over anything, but my whole room was done up in Christmas lights and even Stitch had a Santa hat on that seemed to be personalized for him alone (since it had ear holes for him). There were more bags, I guess that's what Arty forgot to bring from the 'other state', and there were presents everywhere. Not for me of course, but for other people at the it to Arty to make friends and want to spend money. I was just amazed by the lights. I didn't even hear _him_ sneak up behind me.

"Boo." I nearly jumped out of my skin (which with me can be literally). Turning, _he_ just smiled. For some reason, seeing him standing there smiling, I went on a serious guilt trip. All I did was look at this other guy, Donovan, and I turned to jelly, and then there was _him_ who was a friend (?) and I felt guilty about looking at this other guy. But it wasn't like we were official or anything, heck I didn't know what you'd term this 'thing' _he_ and I have.

We hadn't even _kissed _because of Mr. Kurt!

"Wrong holiday," I remarked, and he came closer with a smirk.

"Like the decorating, let me guess, Vegas?"

"Arty," I corrected. "Have you seen her?"

"Have you heard me scream?" I glared at _him_. "She went back downstairs, something about a gift for you and so on. But she _did_ say something interesting," I raised my eyebrow in question as I plucked up Stitch (how cute!). They even made him a little coat! "Something about being alone with romantic lighting and no chance of being disturbed."

"I don't have a clue what she could be…" And then I saw it or _them_. They were hanging from the ceiling and in between each light bulb on the strings of lights. At least a hundred of these little plants dangling from .


	49. Christmas Tidings prt 2

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 049**

* * *

"There you two are!" D-M came running up to us, paused, had a little _smirk_ on her face, "And what have you two been doing?"

I sighed.

"Finding out that I have an allergy to mistletoe."

My cheeks burned a deeper red as I heard a noise of disgust come from _him_. I felt like dying.

"Well, whatever, we're about to have dinner, Ah was told to hunt you two down." She smirked, grabbed an arm from each of us and began to tug us along.

"Actually, I kind of lost my appetite," he muttered, his voice dripping with disgust.

How the heck was I supposed to know I had an allergenic reaction to mistletoe! Couldn't you see it? The mistletoe, the make-shift romantic lighting given by the Christmas lights, and after I freaked out about _having_ that mischievous little plant _everywhere_ in my room _he_ grinned about it all. It could have been a _perfect_ scene in a teen movie. But what went wrong?

Well, he leaned in closer, and I met him half way, not saying a thing, it was _then_, when interruptions were not possible, that I freakin' _sneezed_.

And he was right in front of me; I was never going to live that down.

I as going to go tomorrow and check myself into a mental hospital for the seriously helplessly able to embarrass themselves!

"_Too_ bad, Jean said to drag you down, you don't have to eat, but you have to be there." D-M, still hauling us down the steps, added happily, "Oh, and you'll love what we're having for dessert."

"What's that?" _he_ asked still sounding repulsed. I was permanently red, I felt like stripping off my skin to the 'black' underneath just to hide my embarrassment.

"Lime Jell-O!" her smile got even bigger, "I made it!"

I groaned as he made a gagging noise.

* * *

Dinner was interesting.

I'd been saying a lot of things were interesting. Okay, so let me try this again, dinner was something else.

As in an unidentifiable something.

Apparently a lot of the people considered themselves "master chefs" so all of them tried their hand at making something, what they made could be identified as a new species.

"That is more disgusting than the cafeteria food."

"Not so," Adam debated poking the _stuff_, "I've seen caf food that can communicate, this is nothing but-"

"A great big blob of something that shouldn't be allowed to live," Bobby-Jerk chimed in.

"Kind of looks like something Remy makes when he's alone in the kitchen," Jubilee pointed out, which got a bread stick thrown at her.

"So are we going to go hungry?"

"We can eat this," Scott said, sounding a bit unsure as a bubble popped on the top of this 'mysterious matter'.

"Hopefully before it eats us," someone else I didn't know (which was the majority of the people) threw in.

"Or?"Another person I should, but didn't know, asked.

"We can break down and order pizza."

Oh man, they were going to break the bank on that one!

The glop in the pot bubbled a few more times in protest, before some brave soul slapped the lid back on it.

* * *

After eating (again) pizza (again) that night, I was cheerfully sitting in the biggest room in the mansion (I was forced to sit there and 'behave'). We were being forced to watch "It's a_ Wonderful Life_" over half the people could (and _were_) quoting the movie in sync with each other.

One person I was disturbed not to see was my grandmother, I hadn't seen hide nor polished nail of her since I got back. Most of the time this wouldn't be anything bad, but this was _my_ Grandmother we was talking about.

There were three other people I realized were missing, one of them being the Professor.

I shuddered to think what Grandma might have been doing with the three missing males.

Maybe they should let her out on the "field" with the bad guys. Surely _they_ wouldn't want any of her come-on lines and probably become monks or join Greenpeace or something to prove it.

When they decided to take a break in the movie (which the _other_, non-quoting half cheered about) for the sake of sanity, and to open presents (some) it was four days before Christmas, but they rationalized that they never knew what might happen in those four days.

Some Apollo-lips or something (shoot me, I couldn't get the names right but who _could_?) might decide to resurrect and try to take over the world with fluffy pink and blue pony riding bunnies.

Scott didn't laugh at this, which was unusual because the carrot rammed up his back side seemed to be nibbled away…maybe that's why he was scared, that the rabbits would eat his hinny carrot. Who knew?

One questioning look from _Jean_ and I decided I needed to rope in my over-active imagination. Or at least learn to do something so off the wall that even _Jean_ wouldn't want to be in my head.

So back to the presents, the lights were turned on, and the presents passed out.

Most of the stuff was clothes, books, or something equally as boring. The oddest gift was when Mr. Remy opened the box from an "anonymous" sender and lo and behold, Chris' anatomically correct Gingerbread man was  
there!

"What de heck is dis?"

"My cookie!" Chris shouted, dumbfounded that the thing had survived from wherever it had run off to (last known location: Professor's desk). Everyone had a look of "huh" and some people just busted out laughing.

"Kookie, where're your gifts?" D-M asked smugly as I sat on my rump, picking feathers from my wings (the ones that had fallen _out_ but not fallen _off_) when I gave her my best death glare (still nothing compared to Scott's I  
know, but I was working on it!). "Did Santa forget about you?"

"I guess so."

"Couldn't be! You haven't been naughty enough."

Thank you, Bobby-Jerk, and where the heck had you been? Wait, Emma walked in after him, now I didn't want to know, I just wanted a barf bag.

Ick.

"Could someone go get Hank and Adam?" Miss Oreo asked, and everyone either ignored her question, or rolled their eyes.

"Pinky and the Brain at it again?" Bobby asked, throwing himself down between the two people on the couch.

"Why not make Kookie go, isn't like she has anything else to do." D-M commented, and I glared and grumbled but said 'okay'. At least it got me away from _her_ at that moment. I went down to the "secret laboratory" to find the lab hermits; I wondered what they did down there all the time?

Building their own civilization out oh…_oh crap_!

I pressed myself against the wall, my eyes as big as saucers, my hand clutching the fabric above my heart as it pumped as if it were in a weight lifting competition. I had heard the loudest, most 'I'm-going-to-eat- you-growl' in my life as I was walking and I almost had brown pants it scared me so bad.

"Here, birdy, birdy, birdy."

What the heck? I crawled out of my dent in the wall, and my hurt wing let me know full well that it did _not_ like being slammed into solid surfaces, but I didn't like being next to something that sounded like it could _eat_ me.

There were three bars in a window shaped thingie in the middle of this _huge_ steel (it was a gray and shiny metal door, if it wasn't steel then may Superman come and correct me) door with a pair of _claws_ reaching through it and a pair of enormous golden eyes.

"I bet you taste good." And then a long tongue licked across a pair of bright white teeth, oh wait, sorry, they were _fangs_. "Why don't you come closer, little birdy, and let me pet your pretty head."

I swallowed hard and stared at the hand as it lightly clawed at the bars that held it in (okay, so the reinforced thick –I _hope- _metal door held it in). Whatever it was (it sounded like a he, but with these people, you just never knew) it was a _big_ whatever.

"What's wrong, birdy? Afraid of the kitty?" A nasty sound that I _thought_ was a laugh followed before it continued, "I bet you could make me purr, and I could make you sing."

Then a distinct growl.

And then another growl, but this one came from the hallway.

"Leave her the hell alone, Creed!" Mr. Logan said in a deep voice that even _I_ would obey without smart aleck thought. It was deep and _scary_.

"What is it, runt?" Then a hand with the _clawed_ fingers came through, "Afraid she'll like me like the other little idiot did?" He then did the skin-crawling, creepy laugh thing again.

"Move on, Blyt, leave this," again, I won't repeat the words he used to describe this 'Creed' guy, "to me."

I swallowed and nodded. It was when I heard Mr. Logan's claws extend, and I picked up my pace, there was bound to be blood.

* * *

After admitting that I was allergic to mistletoe to Dr. Hank he chased me around with a needle until he got a blood sample, and also shot me with some medicine. Grandma Arty locked me out of my room, but left some clothes out of the room for me.

I guess it made sense that I wouldn't be able to go back into my mistletoe laden room even if I had some medicine going through my system. Scott and _Jean_ said I'd stay with them, I said I'd be right there…after midnight.

So, there I was, sitting in the now empty family room/den watching the clock in the dark with an unopened box in my hands. It was the thing my mo-_Heather_ gave me, saying it was from my Dad. You know, when she made it legal that she hated my guts.

Correction, she hated my wings and my blood.

The same blood….she might not be mutant but I still had _her_ blood.

"I thought you'd be long gone down to the boathouse by now," Adrian yawned and plopped down beside me. "It's freezing in this place; at least you get a room with a heater." He then let a few minutes tick by, turned to  
me and finally asked, "Why are you down here?"

"Waiting for midnight."

"Oh-kay," Adrian raised one eyebrow at me, "why?"

"Because of—," I struggled to find the words but finally settled on, "I have my reasons." I said gripping what I was holding under my blanket tighter.

"Come on, Kookie, I didn't mean to pry, but I'm just kind of," and then _wham_, he launched at me, knocking me off the couch and sending the little box I'd been holding flying. Before I could recover, I saw him go over and  
pick up the box this incredibly _annoying_ smug look on his face, "_Nosy_."

"Adrian!" I growled, crawling up to the couch and then finally making it to my feet, "Give that back."

"Why?" the little maple leaf teased, "Is it from a secret boyfriend or something?"

I felt my cheeks burn red and was _thrilled_ that we were in the dark—wait, that sounded wrong!

"Adrian," I used the lethal-do-as-I-say-Summers voice, "Give it back."

"Or what?" He smirked, looking at the box and then at me. "What's in here anyway?"

"It's a gift," I seethed. I didn't want him there for this. I wanted to be alone.

"Uh-huh, well," he glanced over at the clock, "It's midnight." And then he tossed it to me, his smile never fading. "Open it quick, I'm curious."

I ground my teeth together, "This is kinda private."

I gave him a steady look, and he said he got the idea, rolled his eyes, and left.

"Now that is _no_ way to treat a boy, kitten." _Arty. _I rolled my eyes and stuffed my little box into my jeans pocket.

"_Grand_-ma," I half growled with a semi-sweet smile, turning around. "Is there something I can do for—_Grandma_!"

She had her _nurse_ costume _on_!

"Yes?" She had the nerve to ask me as if there was _nothing_ wrong with her, a lady in her fifty's walking around in a short nurse-like uniform with stilettos and fishnet stockings! _Hello_! That is the friggin' _definition_ of _wrong_.

"W-wh-what's going on?" I backed up over several things (actually I think it was my feet every time but I was in _shock_ and in danger of losing my stomach!).

Arty jutted out one side of her hips, rolled them (I was turning green at this time), and said in a honeyed voice, "You aren't the only one who caught attention in this house, you know."

She struck another pose with her hand going through her short dyed brown hair, the other hand on her hip, "You had to get all your sex appeal from someone."

Probably why she didn't have any left. That was so gross.

"R-r-right, well, uh, as much as I'd like to sicken—_uh_!_ Stick_ around, I got to go—throw up." I left and went to find a ride to Scott and _Jean's_. I didn't want to know about any anything she had planned. After midnight, my grandma in her _nurses'_ outfit, in the mansion—it was like a twisted version of the ghost of Christmas present! Ick.

Before I could get the visual image out of my mind, I found _him_ and _he_ didn't look too happy.

Wonder what was wrong with him?

And_ then_ I saw Emma (wearing a smirk that would make the devil jealous) walk out of the kitchen after him.

That woman made more rounds than the ice-cream truck!

* * *

I woke up in the early morning because that's when all the freakin' alarm clocks were set for in the boathouse. When I killed the one in my room, I heard three others going off.

I swore I heard Scott's power, uh, sound, and then Jean going muttering about 'not again'. I really didn't have time to investigate because I went on a mission to kill any loud, annoying, beep creating things. I stumbled out of the bedroom and went for the first noise,

Ah-ha! It was in the bathroom.

Being the very genius I was known for being, I _tripped_ over an article of clothing, making a sound between _splat_ and _thud_ (a spud? Th-at?). Great, I was groggy, tired, and now a smear on the tiled floor of the second floor bathroom in the boathouse. Oh, my life was perfect!

I looked at my feet to see what I tripped over, and about jumped out of my skin (then I really would look like I smeared myself on the floor) oh _gross_!

Scott's _boxers_!

Gag, I thought I was going to be sick. Was this some kind of cruel payback for sneezing while _he_ was there? And close? Someone up there had a really odd sense of humor!

I backed up on my hands until I touched something else, looking down I saw it was-_oh _come _on_, now I was man handling _Jean's bra_. I stumbled _back_ out of the room, as the other two occupants were coming into the hall from their bedroom.

"Kookie?"_ Jean_ asked, I said I was going to go scrub my hands and feet off after I gouged my eyes out with spoons. Scott's eyebrows hit his hairline.

"I'm going back to bed," was my clarifying statement and I disappeared into the guest bedroom once again.

* * *

Three hours later, (ninish, yes, that means that these sick Summers get up at _six_) I was laying in bed with my box in my hand. I didn't have time to open it earlier because of Adrian's little fiasco and the-_ugh_, Grandma's appearance.

So now was the time to open the gift from Daddy. Heather said he had it made a while ago for this birthday... I wondered why? Why not the sixteenth like everyone else did?

I opened it, and I just felt like crying (okay, so I _did_ start to cry, get a gift from your passed away Dad and see what you do!). Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I took my present out of the jewelry box and examined it more closely.

The whole sadness came on again, that sense of complete worthlessness about him losing his life in order to save mine. I couldn't remember if I was or wasn't the target of the gun thinking about it. Of course, after having this whole Batman-type fiasco happen to me, it's amazing that I didn't use all the free "pound-then-preach" fight tactic to get back at those people who _killed_ my dad. Even though I always would know I was the chief cause.

"I suck," I muttered, slipping the present back into its box. I decided to get up, get dressed, and _hoped_ that I didn't walk in on the couple of the house making out somewhere.

I mean, come on, _both_ of their—_unmentionables_ were in the _same_ bathroom. Ick!

* * *

It was Christmas Eve and I _did_ get a great surprise party at the mansion, even the people I didn't know were singing and I requested it _never_ happen again (this, of course was under my breath). I got a bunch of clothes (Tee-shirts, _thankfully_, and they were all tailored to fit my wings), some odd knick knacks and things. I couldn't put them up in my room because I would end up sneezing my head off and Dr. Hank would start chasing me around with another needle saying I needed more medicine.

Once again, it was nearing midnight in the mansion. I would have gone to the boat house, but I wanted to be _here_ because I was forewarned about _how_ married couples usually celebrate Christmas. I was thinking I didn't want to know anymore about the Summer's than Scooby-Doo boxers and pink lacy bras.

But what's even worse was that _he_ confronted me about what had ticked him off a few nights ago when I saw him storming out of the kitchen with Emma behind him.

Apparently Snow Queen said something along the lines of, "Your little girlfriend isn't very single minded, one look at Donovan St. Loy and she became so hot and bothered, it's amazing she didn't take him right then and there." Not a direct quote, but close enough. "The ice statues even started to melt."

She had it out against me for some reason, _sheesh_, just because I (not that she knew) bought some rather questionable things at a store wearing _her _face suddenly I was her worst enemy!

"So you terrorize the entire mansion, and then take off with a rich guy to hide?" _He_ was teasing me. I was content to sit on my little loveseat with my hot cup of cocoa and do the total 'chick' thing. (That would be watching the snow fall in a darkened room except for a nice fire flickering behind me.)

"Yup."

"A girl after my own heart." _He_ laughed, walked in, and sat down _right_ beside me.

"Is there something I can do for you?" I asked trying to be as cold as Bobby-Jerk in ice form.

"Maybe."_ He_ smiled at me, completely ignoring the whole little 'ice' shoulder I was giving him. "But I do have good news."

I quirked an eyebrow at this, "Oh, and what is that?"

"Kurt's in bed asleep."

"Kurt's in bed asleep?"

He nodded with a huge grin on his face.

"What's—oh,_ oh_!" What _he_ meant suddenly hit me over the head. I audibly swallowed; he wasn't too weirded out by the last attempt? _I_ was still completely embarrassed about the whole mess (oh brother, I shouldn't have said mess thinking about the whole-sneeze-in-the-face thing). Suddenly I itched all over my neck. "You aren't, like, still—I don't know—sickened by me?"__

He laughed at this before going all major romantic on me again.

"I'm really dying to replace that," he sniffed, "memory with a much _pleasanter_ one." That's when we started the familiar attempt to—well, heck, if you didn't know, where the heck have you_ been_?

This time it was really going to happen! No furry blue priest man, no angry Jean to come storming in my mind (okay, so she hadn't really, but according to my 'sources' she was probably preoccupied…._gah_!), and no annoying mistletoe to activate latent allergies! Just me leaning into him, and _him_ leaning toward me.

So close, so warm, his arm rested behind us on the couch, the other took up the familiar spot under my chin to guide me to him (I was bad with directions, but not_ that_ bad!). I had every kind of butterfly and bug fluttering in my stomach, as my heart beat so fast I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack.

Again, like the before, I felt his nice, hot (and thankfully freshly brushed -I would hate to be the one to say 'Go kiss Crest first', I was not sure but I think it would ruin the moment) breath on my lips, eyes fluttering close as as I almost there. The place I had been trying to get to for _months _to hit— his lips.

Yes, I turned into a sappy romance novel, better than one where people would kill me with a lousy ending, but back to _him _and that kiss.

Again, like before, so close, so dang _close_.

"I thought I was going to get to see some action!" Came a loud, familiar voice that had me jumping about ten feet off the couch, but instead I only managed to jump enough to get my very _hot_ cocoa all over myself and _him._ We both took about two seconds to react and started doing a 'hothothot' dance by shaking our clothes away from our bodies.

I looked over at my Grandmother who I was plotting to _hurt_; she only smirked as he cursed about his favorite shirt being ruined.

"You two were putting that fire to shame." Arty winked, "Good going, kitten!"

_He_ sighed and said goodnight to us (ha-ha) ladies and then went to bed. I glared at my Grandmother as she stood in the door way as proud as a chicken that had just laid a golden egg.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Next time speed it up," she instructed, "Or else you'll be doing that 'almost kiss crap' until your thirty."

That's it. I gave up. I guess I'd never get to kiss him.

And then my stubbornness came in.

I didn't care if I had to tie and gag everyone in a fifty mile radius! I would throw them all in the Danger Room with the big shiny cannons and then I would _finally _get to _kiss _him!

"I _will _do it," I shouted.

"As long as you don't do it in the living room." I turned around to see Adam standing there.

Sheesh, couldn't a girl have a maniacal fit without being spied on?

* * *

It was _Christmas!_

A time for eating, _more_ gifts, and surprises!

The biggest surprise was on the female wing when the heater kicked back on. Apparently there was a disgusting stench floating throughout the halls on their side of the building. They found an open milk cartoon in Paige's room, and thought they solved the problem; only thinking that the rotted milk stink would take a while to air out.

I smirked evilly at them as they went throughout the house looking for air fresheners. If they only knew!

The best thing though, about the whole day was Grandma's gift to me (it wasn't _anything_ latex!). I woke when someone jumped on my layers of blankets and sung 'Happy Birthday Jesus'. I about flung her across the room.

"_Darcy_!" I screamed, leapt at her at the same time. She laughed at me as I grabbed on to my thin, blonde headed little sister, and like a true 'girl girl' I started to bawl!

"I thought you might like her." Grandma smiled at us as I cried. Darcy was laughing and suddenly we had an audience. There I was in shorts and a tank top (loose fitting) as soon as I remember that, I hugged Darcy to my chest, not for any emotional sake, but for the sake of modesty. "I told you I had to pick something up outta state."

For once, I could honestly say that I _loved_ my sex-crazed Grandma!

It was much later that night when me and my baby sister snuck away from the crowd as they got loud and carried on about previous fights I had no clue about. _And_ after I got insulted _again_ in front of my sister by _Emma_.

I told you, that woman had it out for me or something!

She had the _nerve_ to say in a _crowded_ room with my sister behind me, "Some great X-Men you'll be, your first mission and you end up in medical hold for almost two weeks. In no time you'll be nothing more than another tombstone."

I gritted my teeth and felt like decking her, but Jean 'spoke' in my mind. She told me not to let Emma get to me; she was in a crabby mood because of a bad business deal or something and was looking for easy targets.

So back to the slightly _happier_ part of the day. Me and Darcy were walking outside talking, something I never thought would seem so _special_ to me.

"How did mo-_Heather_ let you come up here?"

The fourteen-year-old shrugged.

"Got me, Grandma asked and Mom said yes and basically packed me up and everything. It was weird, but never doubt God's small blessings."

I tried not to snort at that comment. "So, how's life?"

"Life is-" her eyebrows drew closer together, "is life, I guess."

"Thanks for the deep, thoughtful answer." I cleared my throat and rolled my eyes, "So what did Grandma get you as a gift?"

This stopped her in her tracks; I turned as she tipped her head to the side and smiled (she had dad's smile). "Silly, this was _my_ gift from, Grandma."

"Oh, uh, well," I felt nervous and embarrassed, since when had my sister wanted me around? Okay, well, maybe since she didn't have me around anymore, but really she wasn't missing anything important…at least not in this Kookie's opinion. A thought struck me, "Darcy, the last time you were here, you said you wish you could tell-_ooff_!"

Snowball to the _side_ of my face!

"_Score_," someone screamed triumphantly and then crazy laughter from one of the many people I did not know."I'd run if I were you!"

That's when I realized we had wandered right into the middle of the snow ball, no man's zone of the lawn. Needless to say we were pretty close to looking like snowmen when I and Darcy were finally able to make it out of range. My wing throbbed, drats, that meant I had to go back down to the secret laboratory of Dr. Hank's to get some of the 'feel good' stuff.

It was a great Christmas, except I hadn't gotten my kiss!

But there was always New Years!


	50. Family Closeness?

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 050**

* * *

****"You've never ice skated before?" Dr. Hank laughed at me as he whizzed by. Where they found skates big enough for that man, I'd never know (nor would I ever _ask_).

"Not with _wings_!" I griped as I zeroed out again (aka fell on my rump). Darcy and Arty also eased by me, and I shuddered as Grandma's ice skating skirt (very, very _short_ velvet skirt) flapped up as she went right past me. "I give up."

"Good, that means you'll stop making craters in the ice every time you fall!" I glared _very_ hard at Chris. You think the _jerk_ would have some compassion about his leader-type person being a paraplegic on the ice!

"Skate into a snow bank or something," I growled. Anyone want to guess that I didn't enjoy being publicly humiliated? Thankfully, most of the people _didn't_ come out. Most of them being wise and preferring the heat to skating around on a giant frozen pond (and frozen solid thanks to Miss Oreo and Bobby-Jerk).

"Why don't you, like, just flap yourself around?" D-M asked, coming to a stop in front of me. I sighed and muttered about my _hurt_ wing not being able to flex that well yet. "Oh yeah, right, sorry!" And then she, too, skated off.

"Come on," _he _said, gliding up to me, grabbed my hands, and helped haul me to my feet. I could _feel_ Jean's heavy glare on my back but I chose to ignore it. _He_ was paying attention to me in public! As she came closer, _he _began to instruct me and while I was still falling all over myself, _Jean_ decided to break us up. Big surprise there.

"I can help her more than you can," I sighed as she said his name a little _too_ sweetly, "I can steady her with my telekinesis."

Oh thank you. _He_ took the hint and raised his hands in indifference to the red head and left, and of course, without his support, I ended up on the ice… _again_.

From my now sitting position on the ice, I looked up at her. She was looking over to where _he_ had taken off to. "I thought you said you had me with your tele-k-whatever."

Jean looked down at me, "Sorry, I was making sure you had enough space when we tried."__

What? _She_ was calling me fat, too? I was _not_. According to Dr. Hank I had barely any fat on my body, thank you!

She seemed to notice my mind rant, "It's only for your wings, Kookie."

Uh, that—would make sense.

* * *

My ice skating attempt came to a close when Jean ended up throwing snow at Mr. Remy with her telekinesis (she corrected me on _that_ mispronunciation quickly!) after he pinched her behind. Scott saw this, and gently blasted him into the nearest snow pile. I shouldn't have to say that Grandma took full advantage of his helpless state and rewarded his mischief with a couple of pinches of her own, he didn't seem to mind until he knew who it was (apparently he thought it was Miss Rogue or something). Where was I? Face first and sliding on the ice until I tripped up Sam and we ended up stacked on each other.

After this (and having about five other people who were too distracted by the Cajun who was cussing and trying to run on skates to get away from Arty) people tripped over the Kookie/Sam heap and joined us on the ground (ice, very, _very_ cold ICE). I officially gave up for the day. I was smooshed, and they manage to hit my still very much sore wing.

"That was fun." Darcy danced around me like some fly buzzing here and there and chattering away.

"Ah think Ah ripped muh new pants," Sam grumbled.

I think I ripped my spleen, but why should that matter. I was NOT going to get into uniform any time soon that was for sure! My behind was probably turning lovely shades of black and blue as I spoke and that _thing_ they had the nerve to call a uniform showed _half_ my back side!

Just because Paige could run into battle with nothing but her skin and her long hair didn't mean I was ready for that! And hopefully I never _would _be ready for anything like that!

When we got back to the mansion, all with several lumps and bruises due to the skating adventure, Mr. Remy was still trying to get away from Arty, they had both ditched the skates and were now in socks ducking and weaving in the main room.

"She's in pretty good shape for a woman her age," Dr. Hank commented.

Yeah, goodness knows she gets enough exercise chasing the guys and all.

* * *

"This is quite interesting, Miss Summers."

What? My blood now knew how to sing and play guitar or something?

Dr. Hank looked up from his microscope and had a huge grin on his face.

"My suspicions were correct! You are still mutating!"

…was I supposed to be happy? He had told me as much a few months earlier but never really went into detail. I guess this was detail time! And to think I could be eating cookies right about now too.

"As I hypothesized, your wings may be a part of your mutation, but it is not the whole of it. In fact, your mutation appears to be rather, well, wishy-washy is the only expression I can think of at this moment." Oh goody. "Jean has confirmed that even your mental shields-"

"My what?" I had little knights running around in my head fending off telepaths or something?

"Your protection against telepathic probes," Why did that sound _so_ wrong? And I guess I was right about the little knights! "But back to the fascinating part."

What, little men aren't interesting? Okay, maybe I should lay off the sugar…

"Your brain chemistry seems to have reacted to the constant interference in your mind, and is actually building up a sort of immunity to it."

I brightened at this, "You mean they can't read my mind anymore?"

I would be so happy! That meant I could think anything I wanted to without Jean or Professor doing spit takes on me when my thoughts wandered in the Weird realm.

"Uh, not quite, Kookie, but it is giving them less of a headache." Wasn't that a lovely sentiment? "Just like your super strength, the mental shields are most prominent when you are experience heightened emotions such as stress, embarrassment," with those two listed, there shouldn't be any more to go. I stayed either stressed or embarrassed. "Angry, trapped, or frightened."

He went on and on about one thing or another, I kept thinking of ways to scare myself constantly so my mind wouldn't be 'opened' to the world. By the time the science lecture was over, I found D-M waiting outside the ed. Lab to have a 'chat' with me.

"You were in my room, weren't you?" I swallowed, gave a nervous laugh and began to make a bee line for more people. "Kookie, honestly you were in my room weren't you?"

I didn't want to answer her, so I lied.

"No, you see I'm discovering I have a new mutation and part of it is telekinesis." Big, _big_ lie. I had no 'brain' power whatsoever (as my math teacher could testify). "So I was never technically 'in' your room, I just—stood in the doorway?"

"Really?" Then she seemed to get all happy again. "That is so cool!" She did her springy hop thing a couple of times and I thought I was off the hook,"But you see, Ah know it's a complete lie. You saw my—secret didn't you?"

Again, I swallowed.

"Heh, that you have _Hello, Kitty_ underwear?" I faked a laugh and stepped into the main room, where the _heck_ was everyone? "I knew that already from doing laundry oh so long ago."

D-M seemed to get lost in a memory, "Yeah, you completely bleached the pink off of it." She smirked. I just smiled and tried to strain my ears to hear someone. "But really, you can't tell anyone."

"About your underwear?" I questioned, finally hearing Chris' rants about a video game, I couldn't believe I was going to _him_ for help. Not really help, but the fact that I was actually _seeking_ him left a _horrid_ taste in my mouth. "No problem. I've seen worse."

I spun around so quickly it took a minute for me to register what had happened. D-M had grabbed my arm and made me look at her. The face I was greeted with was not a happy one to say the least.

"Ah mean it. _Please_ don't tell anyone, Ah'm not sure they'd understand."

No kidding! _I _didn't understand! (not that I wanted to though, I did not want to get too close)

"S-sure."

Daisy smiled and nodded.

"Good! Ah'm glad you can sympathize!"

I wouldn't exactly say _that_. I didn't have a butchered picture on _my_ dartboard!

Or, well, I didn't feel like thinking about it, I'd get freaked out all over again.

* * *

Two days before New Year's and there I sat scrolling through a list of names and places at two in the morning. I was curious about the heritage of my new "family". I was deadly curious because I heard so many groans and comments about "Not another Summers!" when I was introduced to people. Me being my ingenious self (and having full access to the computer bio files thanks so much to being the leader of my nameless little team of teens…okay, so I lied, I figured out Scott's password and have been logged on illegally).

All I did was type in 'Summers' in the 'last name' slot, and I'd been shifting through the names ever since. I started at ten when Darcy went to bed.

"What are you doing down here?" I nearly fell out of my chair; I had been down here _so_ long without any interruptions that the sound of a human voice almost made me go into seizures. Looking over my shoulder I saw someone else I really didn't know, I think they called her Kitty or Dippy or something like that.

"Playing games," I answered, and shrunk the window I had been reading. "Can I help you?" I really didn't mean to sound mean- oh-kay, so maybe I _did_, but oh well. I wanted privacy!

"You're Kookie right?"

"Yeeess."

"I'm Kitty."

I sighed, and turned back to the screen. "Oh." I heard her make a noise (what's with these people and their weird noises?) and I looked back her.

"Do you need any codes for cheating?"

"No, I think I got it, thanks." Real friendly conversation I know, but I didn't want this 'chick' around at the moment.

"What are you playing?"

I was playing annoyed because you won't leave.

"Nothing." Hey, at least it was the truth!

"What_ were_ you playing?"

I rolled my eyes; couldn't someone do some digging in the personal folders without getting the third degree? It's like you couldn't do anything wrong without being interrogated (boy did _that_ sound condemning!)! When I didn't answer, I heard her walk over to the other side of the room and log on to a computer. I looked over my shoulder back to where she was typing away like a person possessed, and so I pulled up Scott's file again.

Five minutes later, I heard a noise _again_.

"You shouldn't be looking at those files. They're confidential."

I about died.

"W-what are you talking about?" I asked pulling up a game of solitaire to hide my guilty poking abouts.

This Kitty girl looked over at me, and pushed herself away from the console she was using, it was—the same as _my_ screen!

My jaw dropped. "I hacked into your computer. Scott was having trouble logging in and wanted me to check things out. I think he'd be interested to know you've gotten hold of his password."

I was going to burn forever, "He gave me the password."

I lied. I was having a serious problem with that the last two days.

Kitty raised one eyebrow, shrugged and said, "Then it's his own dumb fault he can't log on." She clicked off the hacking program or whatever and turned with a smile (I couldn't believe she actually _bought _that horse manure!). "Just don't go into the journal

parts." She smiled innocently; waited about two minutes, "Want me to show you how to get to them? They make better reading than soap operas!"

"_Sure_!" I was going to die for lying about Scott and to D-M and to this computer cat girl, but at least I could do some serious blackmailing while I was at it!

If I lived that long.

* * *

I hadn't slept all day, so _big_ surprise when I crashed on the couch first available opportunity I got. I had spent the rest of the early and late morning going between the fact (what really happened) and the journals (mission logs. Apparently the members were supposed to keep logs about how each trip 'made them feel.' How weird was _that_?). And Adrian was down there solo, playing video games and since I couldn't kick him off the couch he became part of my bedding. His lap turned into my pillow.

"What were you doing?"

I muttered some response that lead to his 'uh-huh' answer as he went back to gloating over the other drivers in his little racing game thingie. Why he played these games I didn't know, he had both access to a car and to a light simulator (which he was supposed to be practicing with, we all were, but I thought it was dumb that I should have to learn to fly all over again).

"Man! This game is rigged."

Oh,sure.

"You sure you just don't bite at it?"

"Thanks for the everlasting encouragement, Kookie." I was just about to go to sleep when he turned off the video game, and popped in a video/DVD whatever, I had my eyes closed and my ears opened. How did he do this without disturbing, the sleeping Kookie? His metal arm forming power stuff, think Terminator 2, but only in the arms. He actually sometimes looked really cool when he was practicing with those arm blade things.

"Hope you don't mind going to sleep to this," Adrian commented half-heartedly. I opened one eye and glanced at what it was, and lo and behold, it was _The Matrix_. You know the non-crappy first one?

Oh yeah, like I was going to go to sleep with Reeves on the screen! Uh-huh, oh yeah sure! If I did, maybe I'd have a nice dream about him saving me from this life I was in.

* * *

A day later and my world, as haphazardly as it was, that started to come back together—shattered.

New Years Eve and I have been punched in the gut (figuratively, not literally).

"Kookie?" I felt someone shake me, but there was no way I was able to respond. "Are you okay?" Again, the shaking and my grip tightened on what was in my hand.

I couldn't even think straight.

Unless they actually said my name, I didn't even hear the people around me. I knew Jean was in front of me, trying to get me to 'snap out of it' but it wasn't that easy, if it only was.

I felt a hand on my forehead, and then I felt a tug in my hands. That's what broke me out of it.

My first reaction was like all my first reactions, I glared at the person in front of me as I grabbed possession back.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, and when I came back 'in the zone' of reality, I noticed that I had several people looking at me strangely. I was by the Professor's office, and they apparently had been having a Cub Scout meeting or something in there, and since I was on my knees screaming at Jean, this must have seemed interesting to them.

"Kookie, calm down." Jean tried to place, what I think would have been a reassuring hand, on my shoulder but I pulled away so violently that she didn't even act _not_ surprised by me. "What's wrong?"

I looked down into my hands, and then back up to her. The thing was useless to me now, but that automatic reaction of _crying_ started to kick in, so I did the only thing I thought I could do which was to throw the phone to the floor, pick myself up quickly, and run down the hall.

For once in my life here I wasn't followed by anyone and have them cluck out that _super_ annoying question of 'do you want to talk about it?' That would kill anyone's patience faster than a lot of things. I couldn't fly anywhere, my wing was healing but it still wasn't able to be used for flight not to mention there was a slight snow storm going on outside. It was a rumored that Chris' cookie had found its way into Miss Oreo's bed last night. This resulted in a very unamused Storm because she didn't know who had been in her room after Mr. Remy swore he didn't know what happened to the 'little man' gingerbread cookie.

And I still couldn't hole away in my room, they'd know to look for me there (and if they didn't they'd hear my sneezing my feathers off). Tears were still in my eyes as I changed quickly into a new outfit and made my way downstairs. No one even batted an eye as I marched by with my (figurative) little dark storm cloud above me.

I had been at this place way too long. Before, I would have confided in cookies of some sort, but now? Now I went to work out to release some tension (and to beat the living daylights out of something or someone to make them feel worse than me). And wouldn't luck have it that _he_ was the only one in the weight room at the time?

"Hey, Kookie, what's going on?" _He _must have noticed my pet rain cloud (not really, but that would be cool if Storm lent me some of her powers, I'd go around zapping Kurt for interrupting us all the time). But more than that, I would zap the phone.

"Wanna play?" I asked walking over to the mat that took up half of the floor space in the weight room. I was glad it was _him_ and not Scott or something. That would suck to have Scott here, he could wipe the floor with me and I had adrenaline to work off.

For once the 'sexy' grin and the raised eyebrows didn't have any effect on me, I was ticked/confused, in need of a shrink/whatever, but it didn't work so he shrugged, said 'sure' and followed me over to the mat. To set the mood he hit the volume on the radio and blasted the CD he was playing. _He_ did a mock bow, and I just gave him a flat glare.

"Let me guess, you don't want to talk about it?" _He_ smirked; I guessed he realized that his cute smile wasn't working this time. Getting into an attack position he started to slip into fighter mode, popping his neck, and shifting his eyes into a glare.

"Is that supposed to intimidate me?" I was getting cocky, come on, this was _him_ and _he _was a wimp. Bad thing for me, I didn't check with my brain before I let him know this. And when I did call him a wimp, boy, did I regret it. We had been sparring for about five minutes with a duck and weave type deal going on, when I said, "Maybe I should have gotten someone that isn't such a wuss."

He tilted his head to the side and had an amused/disgusted look, "A wuss? I'm a wuss again?" He gave an annoyed laugh, "and when did this happen?"

"Well, come on, you've always been a _wimp_," I said this without much care, and for once, _he _growled and lunged at me. I'd been practicing my 'flips' and

though startled at first I was able to get my foot in his gut and send him into the next wall. But while I was trying to ignore my throbbing wing, he apparently flipped in air and charged again, and this time I couldn't block. We slammed down into the mat (more like I cushioned his fall and I hit pretty hard) so hard in fact that the breath was knocked out of me. Before I could recollect my now smashed-into-the-mat brain (that had been dressed in Gothic gear -you know, dark and moody?-when I came into the room) he pinned me like an insect for science class. I struggled, but apparently my strength was concentrating on going 'ow ow ow ow!' because my wing was in _pain_ (not to mention my _pride_).

"I'm sorry, is the 'wuss' too much for a strong girl like you?" He asked. I glared at him and tried to raise myself, but he slammed me back down. My arms were above my head, both of his hands keeping them there (okay, he wasn't so stupid as to think that one hand could hold me) and his knees where painfully and uncomfortably pressing into mine. I was face to face with this _person_! Argh!

Usually I would die to be able to get this close to him, but at that moment, with hurt pride, confusion, and pain soaring through me, I wanted nothing more to wipe his angered expression off his face.

"_Get_. _Off_," I commanded, forgetting that I was supposed to be a 'Summers' and going straight for my Saturday-morning-kick-butt-class-instruction-of-Mr.-Logan type voice/growl/command/threat.

"Nope." He reverted to that smug smile and if I knew where my super strength flew off to I'd shoot it down and drag it back! "We are going to have a little talk."

Uh-oh.

"_Why_?" I was still upset (ticked off, whatever, right?) and I was going to fight this to the end.

He rolled his eyes.

"Because you're constant swinging emotions are getting a bit on the _annoying_ side."

"Then get off of me so me and my annoying self will go and play with someone else."

He lost all his smugness and it turned into curiosity (creepy looking curiosity), "Oh yeah, and who might that be?"

I spit out the first name that came to mind, "Adam."

He got an angry glint in his eyes, and it was enough of a distraction that I felt his grip loosen somewhat. I had my opportunity for freedom. Trying to do a fast, hard sit up to knock him off balance, his senses took the short cut and came back quickly but not his sense of niceness as he slammed me once again back into the mat with all his strength.

Maybe I shouldn't call him a wimp or talk about Adam in his presence, apparently Adam was a threat to him somehow?

"Talk."

I didn't answer. I wasn't a magic eight ball you could shake and get an answer from. I just didn't work that way.

"Come on, Kerry."

I wanted to growl at him for using the 'intimate' real name of mine. If his 'charming' side didn't work on me, why on earth would _that_?

I didn't answer him with anything but a glare. Like I said, he was really close but a ticked off girl wasn't a romantic thinking girl. In fact it was the _last_ thing on my mind, so he could have been spouting poetry and I'd _still_ be fuming and glaring.

Then he kissed me.

No dramatic build up, just _bam_! Right there on the mat without any 'romantic' scenery or _anything_. Just _bam_.

And _that_ worked to—well, it startled me enough to talk.

At least, until the guy who called himself Cable or Gable or something like that walked in and about died. But instead of dying, he glared and I didn't doubt he could have taken _his_ (his-_his _not his-Cable/Stable) head off the way the glowing eye went all shiny like Scott's when he got mad.

We weren't doing anything questionable, even though _he_ still had me pinned and was still really close.

I guessed that Cable/Gable/Stable guy just had an active imagination…heh.

* * *

Grandma's 'plan of attack' was still in 'full swing', she still wanted us to get all dressed up to get _him_ jealous enough to stop playing games with me. I felt like an idiot on New Year's Eve dressed up in a dress that did more than give hints at "what I had" it gave a friggin' _map_ with the freaking directions!

But before I was able to go out, I felt a 'need' to talk to someone else about what happened (this need was implanted into my brain by _him_ after Cable almost glared him into non-existence) and _he_ said Stitch was not an option. _He_ suggested someone who was 'involved' in this whole mess and since I wasn't talking to _Jean_ that meant Scott. _Scott_ was busy running some of the older newer recruits through the Danger Room at full speed. He was in the 'god seat' and pushing as many buttons as he pleased so those in the room beneath would suffer.

I had a _long_ coat on (and not much under that, I was afraid that whenever Grandma and I got to where we were going and I took off my coat I was going to get arrested for indecent exposure or something! Did I mention I was _modest_ and Arty was _not_?) I went Scott-hunting and of course he was where everyone said he would be. Weird thing was when I got into the control center the man was _laughing_ about his little antics.

He was one sick puppy sometimes.

"Uh, Scott?"

He looked toward me and then clicked off the comm. link between this room and the one downstairs.

"Take a seat," he said flippantly, waving toward one of the bolted down swivel chairs (must _everything_ be bolted down?) and I carefully sat down in it and waited for him to stop pressing every single button on the face of the control thing. "That should keep them busy."

I heard _several_ bangs and a _boom_ or two and wondered if 'keeping them busy' was keeping them dead?

"What is it?" Scott asked, leaning back and turning to face me with one eyebrow raised and suddenly I felt really dumb again. So I gave a nervous smile and laugh combo before I ever opened my mouth. Scott just kept looking at me. I guessed he had that patience thing down pat, by now if I was him looking at me I would have gotten fed up with me and said spit it out.

"Uh, well, it's uh," Where was Jean to rip it out of my mind when I _wanted_ her to? "I-I was j-just," working on my Porky Pig impression, how was it? "Uh, I guess I wanted to talk."

He did a laugh and smirk thing (which equals to a 'duh' in Scott language) "I'm listening. Is it about your team?"

"Uh, no."

"Your sister?" I guessed he wanted to play 20 questions. He stiffened a bit, "Is she okay? Nothing happened right?"

"No, she's fine." And pouting like crazy because Arty refused to let _such_ a minor go where we were going. So when I showed her my dress and me in it, she said I looked like I was in a red hefty bag. Great kid wasn't she? Sheesh.

"So this is something about you?" He asked, drawing out every word like I was going to stop him.

When was it _not_ something about me? Honestly!

"Sorta."

"Sorta?" He sighed, "Kookie, I gave the team down there a tough program but it won't last long enough for me to guess what's wrong, can you just tell me."

Oh sure, if I could 'just tell' you I would have walked in, sat down, and started to jabber on about why I wanted to beat the living spirit out of someone this afternoon. Of course he probably already heard about what Cable walked in on, I mean come on, that big guy with white hair was Scott's real son. I was _so_ confused when I read that little tid bit in the files. My head _still_ hurt when I thought about it!

"It's about when I-yelled at Jean."

If he had any reaction at _all_ it was well hidden. Not so much as a flinch. Was he used to people randomly screaming at his wife?

"Go on."

Correction. Scott's voice got deeper; therefore he _did_ have a serious reaction. This was quickly getting out of _my_ favor. Oh joy.

"It wasn't that she did anything weird or anything," Besides about a week and a half ago calling Heather a blood thirsty person (which I was completely denying, though I knew it was true, what would Darcy think?).

He did this tightening of the jaw bit, I guessed that meant 'continue but be careful what you say'.

"It's just that I got a phone call from someone." My throat was started to tighten, apparently my brain was pulling a Scott and trying to keep other things busy to prevent me from spilling my guts and crying again.

"Anyone any of us know?"

"My-" I could barely speak, "mom."

His reaction was immediate. He told the people downstairs to keep themselves busy by fighting themselves and such, and then Scott turned all his attention to me.

"What did _she_ want?" he seethed. "What else can she _do_?"

By this time, I _was_ crying, and feeling every little crack in my heart take the salt from my tears and rub it in harshly.

"S-she wasn't mean," I tried to defend; I couldn't _believe_ I tried to defend her. "She was _nice_ and friendly-like before."

"Nice? _Her_?" Scott seemed disgusted that I should have used that word with her. "What was the conversation, Kerry? She's not supposed to have any contact with you whatsoever."

I tried to wipe away the tears with the edge of the coat sleeve. Scott was really getting upset, and I thought it was at me!

"I had to talk to her! I didn't know I wasn't supposed to!" I started to cry harder. This threw him off balance enough to calm down, and before I knew it, Jean was there.

"Kerry, calm down." Easy for _her_ to say! At least she wasn't fussing at me. That's when the 'brain chat' started.

/_We're not upset with you, we're just concerned because we know the last time Heather spoke to you-/_ no need to finish that thought. _/Just relax and let me hear what she had to say./_

Since I had yet to learn _how_ to kick her out of my head, she went directly to the memory of my Heather's phone call, only _after_ she saw the memory about me and _him_ in the workout area. I thought she was going to explode into flames right then and there.

* * *

"She said _what_?" Arty didn't seem to take the information about my mom's phone call any better than Scott and Jean.

"She said 'happy birthday' and didn't sound mad at all. She even said she—loved me before she said good-bye." I shrugged and hugged my trench coat even tighter around me.

"I'm sorry to hear that kitten," Arty actually sounded like a _real_ Grandma for a moment, but just a moment, 'cause less than a second later, "Perk up! We are going to have us a good time tonight!"

Among the drunks and the other people trying to kiss people at midnight? Oh yeah, loads of fun.

"Yeah."

"Come on, that young guy won't know what hit him."

Sure wasn't me who hit him; he stomped me into the ground today, and then _kissed_ me. If I had the heart to, I'd get mad at him for it, but I was just sick of being mad, the numbness in my chest was rather nice.

"We'll win this little game! You'll see."

"I don't want to," I whispered before my brain jumped out of its seat and wondered how the heck my mouth talked without checking with it first. "I'm sick of games, Grandma."

"Oh, come _on_, kitten!"

"No," I stated again. I was so tired of this grind on my heart and my mind. I was fine, even somewhat learning to live without Heather, but now? Now I was back to where I was when she hung up on me the first time I tried to call when I got to New York. I had to start all over! What was wrong with that woman? Why couldn't she just _leave me alone_?

"All right then," Arty said in a quiet voice, "We won't play any games, but we will get you feeling better."

If it has _anything_ to do with male strippers, I was not interested.

"Thank you," and then my brain kicked my voice box to finish my thoughts, "How?"

"Silly, the way you make _every_ female in the D'mon _or_ Summers family line feels better—chocolate malts!"

Sometimes I really loved that woman. _Sometimes_.

* * *

A week later, and I was feeling a bit better. My wing was going to come out of the cast any day now, and for some unknown reason Chris' gingerbread man had now been spotted in Mr. Warren's room. And the woman's wing officially stunk to the point there was a hunt and destroy to find the cause of the scent. At first they thought the plumbing had backed up, someone forgot to do their laundry or that there were dead rats or _something_ in the building.

What they found was the "prank" I pulled which was putting an open milk carton in the heating vent in the hall and let it rot. D-M about threw up everywhere when they found the little prize and then they wanted my head on a golden platter (at first they thought it was Bobby-Jerk and swore if he ever went into their wing again they'd castrate him when he _finally _was able to prove his innocence, they went for me instead).

So now, with Darcy, my 'team' was down at the boathouse on the porch (the weather was in the seventies thanks to Miss Oreo) with some of the 'higher ups' learning CPR. Interesting thing was there was no practice dummy so someone had to be it.

"I am _not_ kissing a _guy_!" Chris fumed; Adam and Adrian quickly nodded in agreement.

Scott had paired us up and _Jean_ about lost it when Scott innocently paired me and _him _(him being _him-_him not him-Scott). In fact she must have sent him (Scott-him) a rather 'loud' message because he requested she not shout next time. So to ease away any other 'mess ups' _Scott_ volunteered to be the dummy. Actually, _Gambit_ (Mr. Remy) volunteered to be the girls' dummy, but then, like always, Grandma popped up out of nowhere and that was a completely _different_ fiasco.

"You're not _kissing_ anyone, you are saving their lives."

"Can't that be optional?"

"_Chris_!" D-M screamed, picking up one of her CD cases and throwing it at him, "Behave."

"Yeah, Chris why don't you practice with Daisy? After all you two have that opened mouth thing down pat," Adrian teased.

Chris went blood red with embarrassment and Mr. Warren and a few of the other guys cracked up.

"Doesn't mean he's any good at it," D-M muttered under her breath. I raised an eyebrow at this.

"Kookie, are you going to be the reasonable one and set an example?" I about went white. _Me?_ Kiss _Scott? _No _way_!

"Uh, sure," I said, then remembered _I_ was leader, "Get to it D-M."

She got the most '_Say what!_?' look on her face.

"Oh,_ heck no!_" D-M crossed her arms against her chest, "Ah'm not into old men."

"Chris?"

He glowered at me. I shrugged and gestured toward where the little _too_ willing of a victim (Scott) lay. With this dangerous look on his face, Chris walked over, and before we knew what he was doing, he stomped his foot and blew in Scott's general direction.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked, a little less than amused at his antics.

"Giving CPR to someone I don't like," He was so dang _smug_ about it, there was nothing to do but groan and roll our eyes.

"Grow_ up_, sparks," Adrian said, flipping his eyes.

Needless to say, when Dr. Cecilia brought a dummy from the local hospital we were all thrilled. Though Chris made her clean it three times before he'd touch it.

What a _wuss_!

I mean she only had to clean it _twice _for me.

* * *

I ran my fingers through my hair; I hadn't had a trim or cut since I came here. I guessed I really didn't think about it before because since I could remember my mo-Heather, had been my hair dresser. So not having her around to make me sit and be still every three months just left my hair forgotten. It wasn't _fair_.

Why'd she have to call?

Scott and Jean said they'd take care of it. They had exchanged curious looks while I was freaking out thinking I had done or said something wrong (not that I did that often….._riiiight_).

I couldn't get to sleep. I was still at the boathouse (it was a half a week after New Year's and I had been avoiding _him_ at all costs, I wasn't sure whether to blush or to beat him up for _finally_ kissing me in such a way!) and Darcy was in a cot beside me, so there I sat with my fingers in my hair, my mind on Heather, and nothing to do but stare at my feet.

In my own nonchalant way I asked Darcy whether Heather said anything about me or not, she shrugged, and that was my only answer. A shrug. No other reply, no matter how hard I tried to pry something out of her, she would just shrug all over again or do that 'I dunno' line. For the first time in a long time I wanted to strangle teenagers in general, which would mean me too so I decided not to do that.

Sighing I climbed to my feet and after _not_ so quietly leaving the room I stumbled down the stairs to the living room. It was around two in the morning (my favorite time!) and the one thing I loved about Scott and Jean's house was that there was more of a chance the television being free then at the mansion with several other people who might have had insomnia that night.

The bad thing?

They only had cable. After getting spoiled to the super duper 500 or more channels at the mansion, a mere 50 was like the poor man's meal. Of course they also had the massive DVD collection which took up half a wall. Most of the movies were from the sixties or seventies and there was a whole _shelf_ full of 'The Three Stooges'.

I guessed everyone has a secret obsession. Mine was 90s cartoons and _him_ (not really an obsessed with him per se, just interested. Possessed sounds too much like _Exorcist_ if you asked me) and Scott must have liked the Three Stooges. It could be Jean, but it's always the less likely person, and I _could_ see Jean watching and laughing at slapstick humor, and Scott, I could see him trying to integrate it into a defense tactic.

These are the type of thoughts I had! What could I say? Hopefully not a lot because then they'd all think I was nuts, of course, the telepaths probably already think that. And if they didn't think that, then why the heck _not_?

I stopped my little mental debate/diagnoses and twisted my head toward the stairs when I heard my name. Darcy stood there, rubbing her eyes like she was three again asking to sleep in my room and waiting to hear a story about the bum angel Blyt.

About me now I guessed.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

She made a face.

"Aren't you?"

"I'm—on guard duty."

"For what? To protect the TV from thieving couch potatoes?" I stuck my tongue out at her and she giggled before joining me as I flipped on some 'kid appropriate' channel (Tom and Jerry, which was her favorite, but I would always be a Powerpuff Girl fan. What could be more entertaining than three little girls with funny heads who could kick behind?).

"Couldn't sleep?"

"What, this isn't a dream?"

"Want me to pinch you to prove it?"

I snorted (seemed to be a bad habit I picked up from Wolverine).

"Not unless you want me to show you what they've been teaching me here."

We sat in silence for a while, her laughing at the mouse's antics while I was comparing the evil tendencies of mice and birds (Jerry and Tweety—that bird was diabolical! The X-men would even lose to that devil incarnate!). and then the worse possible commercial came on. One that was laughing and joking about the JCPenny's One Day Sale with the _dad _asking 'Where's your mother?'.

I could almost count it down in my head when Darcy would leave, but I would have been counting a long time. The road that my baby sister took was a different one than I was ready for when she turned around and asked, "Do you ever think of him?"

I choked. _Scott_ knew about my Dad in detail and he told me about his. There wasn't any conviction, no judgment when he nodded and didn't say anything. Well, nothing about my Dad in general just the sacrifices parents will make for their kids. Call my crazy (which wouldn't be too far from the truth), but I didn't think he was referring to my I didn't want to talk about something, or think about something, I started to notice that I thought or talked about random things.

"About who?" I pointed to the actor, "Him?" Darcy started to get a hopelessly lost look about her. "Never really looked at him, I mean he's like what? A hundred or something?"

"Keeerrrrreeee," Darcy pleaded. I knew what she wanted to talk about it, but she still didn't know the truth. If I had anything to say about it, she never would. "Please? Mom never says anything about him either."

Probably because it included me. I turned down the volume on the television as I sighed, then turning my attention to her.

"Okay then, what do you want to know?" I more or less snapped at her.

"Uh, I wanted to know if you ever thought about him?" She picked at the edges of the couch.

I could blame it on the late hour and my lack of sleep, but I'd just say I guessed I was being hateful, "Say his name, Darcy. It won't hurt me, and it won't bring him back."

She looked at me, her big eyes looking like they were about to blanket her in tears.

"D-dad. Do you ever think about Dad?"

My jaw tightened.

"What good does it do?" I questioned her, "Like I said, it won't bring him back. And wh-what good does it do _us_ to think about him _now_?" I was more than touchy on this subject because of my conscience.

Her shoulders slumped. Oh man!

"I guess you're right." Darcy's voice was super soft and I was fortunate to make out as much of what she said as I did. How did I ever eat with my foot lodged so deep in my mouth?

"I-I'll just go back to bed I guess. Sorry for bothering you."

Okay, let me guess, I was the only one who would let her walk away right?

Nope, even _I_ couldn't let her go like that; of course, I realized that after she was at the base of the staircase. I called her name and she (head still pointed down) turned back to me. After saying twice for her to come back, she did and sat down, her blanket pulled tightly around her body.

This was the part I knew how to play by heart. I did it when I lied about my dad, when they told us two days later that his truck was found abandoned. I did it when my sister and mother cried on my shoulders and I couldn't cry with them. I had to be the strong one. I was never given the opportunity to cry. I couldn't before the news, it would raise too many questions, and I couldn't after because then who would the rest of my family looked to? I had to be the strong one and I thought when I came to New York I wouldn't have to be that anymore.

My mistake.

"I didn't mean to get mean about it, I just-haven't talked about Dad in a _really_ long time." Okay, so I lied, but technically a month and a half might be a _really _long time to someone. "But, yeah, I do think about him from time to time."

"Me, too." I wasn't about to say anything else, "I sometimes wonder if he would have been—proud of us."I stiffened.

"I'm sure he would have been. Dad was always proud of us, Darc." She just kept staring at the floor. It was more annoying than anything. "Why, have you done something that you think he wouldn't like?"

She was _crying_, her blonde hair had hid it while she had her head down, now Darcy's eyes were overflowing with tears. For the first time in a long time, my heart tightened in my chest and I felt helpless. Just like the night I held my dad trembling, screaming, and shaking my head in denial.

"Not about _me_, Kerry."

That small tug on my heart turned into a rodeo bull plunging his horns into the soft organ. She doubted whether or not _dad_ would be proud of me? If he would have love me?

"What does _that_ mean, Darcy?" I asked, my voice trying to crack.

"You're a _mutant_, Kerry. What would Daddy have to say about that?" I quickly looked to the steps, I could have sworn I heard one creak, but then again, why would Scott _or_ Jean not know their stairs well enough to know that the third from the top squeaked like a stuck rat?

Temporarily distracted by the thought of being spied on, I dreamed up some type of reply in my brain that was working overtime trying to formulate something that wouldn't turn me into a Mr. Hyde. Or a Ms. Hyde, oh, whatever!

"Are you ashamed of me?"

She shook her head from side to side violently.

"Then why would he be?"

She opened up her mouth, but then snapped it shut.

"I guess, I just thought maybe _you_ didn't think so." Liar. "Be-because _mom_ doesn't-I don't think she likes you being a mutant." __

That was an understatement!

"So, I guess that's why you have new parents now, because you can make them proud." I nervously fiddled with a loose feather on my wing. "They really are nice." Oh, would you look at that? My feather fell off. "Why don't you call them Mom and Da-"

"_Well_!" I cut in, jumping to my feet, "Want to see what kind of stuff they have in this place to munch on?"

I didn't even want to _think_ about calling Jean and Scott anything _but_ Jean and Scott. Sure I had let it slip _once_ with _Scott_, but that was because I was half out of it (the other half was dead and that included my brain).

Darcy let it go like a clever girl, and followed me into the kitchen. The first couple of cabinets had enough health food to start a business. We were disheartened but determined at the same time. And then, after I got the bright idea of _moving_ the health food aside, "_Jackpot_!"

Chocolate cake mixes, cookies (some which I recognized as _mine_), candy bars, and chocolate pop-tarts-this was probably all the contraband discovered at the mansion by various people. And the Cookie Nazi took them back to his own lair and ate them? What a skunk! And why wasn't Jean like five hundred pounds?

"This is sort of like the last time I came!" Darcy ever optimistic personality came through again, leaving our previous conversation to the silence in the living room.

"Yeah, I'll probably get another stomach ache from all this."

"So that's why you were so sick."

Darcy yelped and my shoulders tensed up so much I thought they might get stuck in my ears. Wouldn't that be a weird sight?

"Uh, Mr. Summers, did we wake you up?" Darcy _really_ sounded like a mouse with as high as her voice went.

Scott was leaned against the side of the kitchen doorway, one eyebrow raised over the goggles he wore (late night swim?) and his arms crossed. I would have been worried but he had this,I dunno, sassy smile on his face.

"What are you two doing up so late?"

Darcy looked like a startled goldfish, and I guessed it was big sister to the rescue.

"We just-couldn't sleep and so we were going to get rid of all this unhealthy and distracting junk food?" For some reason that sounded so much better in my head then out in the open.

"Sure. And the next thing you'll be telling me is that your Grandmother is going to take a vow of celibacy." It was _my_ turn to do that fish thing. Starched Shorts Scott Summers made a _joke_?

"Not until Warren takes a vow of poverty," came a fourth (and to my knowledge the last person in the house) voice. "Do you have to have an invitation to this party or are crashers allowed?" Jean asked, and Darcy started to do her shy smile.

"What's the party doing _up_ is what I want to know."

"We were hungry?"

"And you thought that chocolate could help you sleep?"

Thinking quickly, and never clearly, I put on my best clueless look.

"Chocolate?" I asked innocently, "What chocolate? Darcy and I were just looking for the-" I listed the first two products I saw, "Dried garlic chips and soy paste?" Oh _yuck_!

Apparently it was a shared reaction because even Scott made a disgusted face at the mentioning of this lovely (blah!) delicacy. Jean muttered something about not knocking it until you try it but I just kept my fake smile on.

"If it's between you two being sick or being hyper, by all means be hyper," Scott smiled; I guessed this late at night (early in the morning?) he wasn't one to put up much of a fight.  
Darcy looked at me, and grinned.

"You heard the man, big sister, by _all_ means!"

And then we ate the healthy stuff.

_Riiiiiiight._

The chocolate was hunted, collected, and conquered (we ate it, who knew, it could have been evil chocolate!)! Yes, I would think of _any_ excuse to have the sweet stuff!

* * *

It started on Sunday morning.

At the Summers' house I should have known that hoping Sunday mornings didn't exist to these people was asking for too much. With my wing earning the stamp of approval and my alarm clock smashed, I woke up when I felt a nice, refreshing breeze.

Clue number one Kookie decided to ignore.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed there was a _lot_ of blue in the room. By the time my brain said 'ut-oh' and 'You're not in bed anymore, Toto' my eyes widened further as I attempted to look around me.

Ever watch those cartoons where Bugs Bunny warns the other character to not look down, doc?

Yeah, well, guess what stupid _did_.

I looked down, and trust me; down was a _long_ way down there. I screamed alerting Jean to release her telekinetic hold on me as I started to fall. If the rest of the people weren't up when I was _floating a_bove the _pool_ then my screaming bloody murder and crash landing on the roof, gripping desperately the shingles, and trying to get my heart to stop running around screaming in my rib cage should have done the job.

What was _with_ these people? First the ice pillar, then the drop-flight technique, and then being woke up _floating_? They _had_ cable, they _had_ 500 or so channels and so they didn't need _torture_ to entertain them!

"What's the matter, Kookie?" Came a familiar and, right then, an even _more_ annoying voice. I glared over my shoulder, but my big black feathered wing was in my way. Oh brother, but apparently I wasn't the only one rudely woken up. I heard D-M's high pitched scream and then the boys cussing (one of them) and the other just screaming out things.

"Get me down from here!" I screamed, and that's when I heard the Professor in my head.

_/This is the week we judge how far you all have come. The X-men are not here to assist you, but to test you./_

He was pinning up a bunch of amateurs against the pros? What was wrong with these people!?

The next thing I knew was Mr. Warren landing beside me with a smirk that just _dripped_ with smug superiority.

"Welcome to Hell Week," he clipped out and then flew off.

It's the spandex. It had to be the spandex.


	51. The beginning of Hell week

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 051**

* * *

"This is the last week Darcy is here, so let's give her a good show." Those were the words that the almighty moron muttered before 'hell week' started.

The almighty moron being Chris (of course) and why was I blaming this on him? Because if I blamed it on anyone else, they could kick my behind from here to Washington.

It was the second week of the New Year and my cast was off, surprisingly I was already healed and ready to start physical therapy…which meant Sam would take me up a few thousand feet and dropped me (_repeatedly_, I started thinking this was his new hobby or something, maybe I should have gotten him a model airplane or something). My wing was sore and weak, but in working condition so after a few minutes I started to (while calling him really bad names) chase Mr. Warren around the sky (I know it was _his_ fault, he's my 'flight' instructor).

He called me slow.

Scott said it was because of the chocolate binge me and Darcy had.

I called Scott a jerk (under my breath of course) and it wasn't like Mr. Military Man wasn't in on the junk food buffet! As I remember it he made the chocolate milk (which, I must admit, he did _very_ well. I didn't think he was as 'no junk food' as he let on).

But before I get carried away with that, let me go on about the newly instated 'heck week'. As the Professor and the other head 'look-at-me-aren't-I-important' people in spandex put it, this was the week when they gave us crash courses in almost everything.

In short, "We are going to regret the day you were born."

I started to regret it when I had to wear that bathing-suit-leotard thing in public and give everyone an eyeful.

"This is the week to judge how far you all have come; the X-men are not here to assist you, but to _test_ you."

Was how that loving little man put it. Grandma beamed like she just got to pinch somebody's behind. Apparently, the Professor had some pull at Salem Center Private School (where I usually go between being _shot_ and being in the medical wing-no pun intended!) and got 'permission' for us to be out for the last half of the week since we were supposed to go back Wednesday. My life was sad, sad, sad.

"For the first half of the week, there will be two teams," Scott explained later on Sunday. All of my team was in uniform and Daisy and Adam were still clutching their hearts from being scared awake just like I had been. I didn't know how they (the evil 'senior staff') woke the rest of them (my now prematurely aging group) up, but I think mine was freaky and cruel.

I had been wearing a nightgown and I just _know_ someone saw _something _I didn't want them to because I was lowered from the roof. Talk about humiliating. It wasn't like I didn't have underwear, but unlike the rest of the people, I was not a mad flasher after attention.

Back to the supposed schedule.

"You will be given provisions, maps, and the basic utility belts that are supplied to each of the -members who go on the field." Utility belts? What were we, Rambo-wannabes? "Use of any unauthorized equipment will cause your team demerits. What this amounts to is if you break the rules, you get fined by having to do additional training with one of the senior staff after this week is completed." Scott smiled; nothing can be good if _Scott_ smiled. "And if one of your team messes up, the whole team suffers."

This sent a rumbled groan through us as the other 'senior staff' who was present chuckled. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"The rest of this day will be spent instructing you over what you need to do for the rest of the week," Storm (she was in uniform) continued.

"No kiddin'," Chris grumbled.

Ignoring him, "Since you all have been under our tutelage for six months, some longer," One look at me, and I gave a sheepish grin. Just when I was about to space out! "We feel confident that you will be able to handle this.  
Those who are able to complete the requirements for this week will start to accompany the X-Men in more important missions and exercises. Even train with them."

Adrian yawned, Adam's eyebrows shot up, Daisy started to squeal and clap her hands,for once me and Chris exchanged glances. We seem to say to each other "I'd rather fail instead of stepping up training."

Of course, having such thoughts near telepaths was dumb. Jean spoke up then, "Any failing on purpose will be harshly dealt with." She eyed both me and Chris.

Drats.

hr

I was going to be partnered with _Daisy_. I found that out when we were getting our backpacks and belts. The backpacks were loaded down with MRAs (ya know, the freeze dried fish food they feed the military?), maps, and all the promised stuff. There was no change of clothes allowed and no ketchup (D-M asked, not me, and when she did I think even the Professor rolled his eyes).

"The girls are getting paired up because we don't want any-" Dr. Hank trailed off, momentarily thinking of the proper word for his current audience (us), "Temptation?"

"Between Kentucky Fried Chicken and the hayseed, what temptation is there?" Chris asked, his normal smirk plastered on his face.

"The temptation to push people off a cliff or drown them in the lake," I shot. Chris gave me his normal drop dead glare, and I, in return, gave him my best 'after you' look.

At first it wasn't this way, it was Adam and D-M who would be a team and the rest of us would be together on the _other_ team. But I guessed my smile unnerved my other teammates because Chris refused to be anywhere alone with me and Adrian slowly agreed that it wouldn't be the wisest thing to be alone with me while I still had some anger from the school incident. I took offense, but it only helped prove their point when I started to fuss at them in a loud voice. It was _not_ shouting.

Okay,so it was shouting, but that's the short story about how I got paired up with Miss There Better Be Bug Spray in That Backpack.

Mr. Logan said that even if there wasn't insect repellent, bugs would be the _least_ of our concern.

"I look like G.I. Jane!" D-M whined after she got 'suited up'.

Again, Chris and his troublesome mouth, "Nah Demi Moore has bigger-" his smile grew, "Grenades."

"You best be talking about _hair_, Christopher," D-M replied testily. His expression became even _smugger_.

I was the last one to get my survival kit but I noticed something extra was added to mine.

"What's this?"

"A notebook for you to write in," Dr. Hank explained.

No really, I thought it was going to be our toilet paper…oh, ick, I didn't even want to think about that!

"Since you are designated leader of the team, whether split up or not, you write down what you think are the strengths and weaknesses of your team members."

Oh really? What was I supposed to do, in the middle of the fight yell "hey hold on! I need to write this down for prosperity"? Oh sure, that would work. Work at getting me beat up faster!

After he handed me my belt, I waited on purpose.

"Is there something else you need?"

I smiled innocently, "If I'm going to be playing midnight marauder, where's my cape and cowl?"

He quirked an eyebrow and smiled at me letting a loud laugh, "I'll see what I can do!"

hr

Sunday.

1500 hours.

Didn't that just sound too cool?

"This exercise has two main objectives. One, that you make it back to the mansion before noon tomorrow, and two that you find and capture the other team or at least one of the members."

Oh,boy….giving people who had 'issues' a verbal right to go all gung-ho on each other was _not_ a smart idea.

We were _still_ being briefed right until Mr. Kurt "bamfed" in and said it was time to go. Chris, Adam, and Adrian were the first to disappear in a cloud of pink smelly smoke.

Me and D-M were next, Darcy was all happy-go-lucky about how it was so 'awesome' that I should be stuck in the middle of the woods with a bunch of equipment that beeped and flashed little red lights (I had been learning about them, but Scott was teaching me and I tend to block him out after the initial 'this is the 'on' button').

We were teleported into the middle of the woods, supposedly past the lake, near the hills in the _very_ back of the Xavier property.

"Uh! Ah'm going to stink!" D-M complained, holding her nose and waving the offending odor of Mr. Kurt's teleportation away.

"Trust me, after two days out here, my 'bamfs' are going to smell heavenly compared to you and your teammates."

"Oh no!" D-M yelped, "Ah forgot!" Worry suddenly covered her face."Ah have to go back to the mansion."

"Dais-Kia," her codename, "I don't think they'll allow Ipods out here."

"That's not it, Kurt, Ah _have_ to go back to the mansion!" She gripped his shirt, "Please?"

"I can't, _freuline_, sorry. Once you left the mansion you have to return there on your own." Mr. Kurt shrugged and said his apologies in German and then popped out of sight.

"We won't be too hard to find," I muttered "All they have to do is follow the stench." Looking over to D-M she looked pale and frightened. What happened? She already saw a bug? "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, Ah'll be okay." She then seemed to flip her 'happy happy' switch and the perky girl was back online, "So which way do we go?"

I sighed, and started to dig through my sack, pulling out a compass I looked over to her, "Do you know how to work one of these things."

"Uh, you follow the needle?" she offered.

"Does it point back to the mansion?"

She shrugged, then snapped her fingers and pulled out a map from her own bag.

"Ah'll be the navigator! This shows the little direction arrow thingies."

It was going to be a very _long_ trip back.

* * *

"So nature girl, how did you learn to build a fire?" I asked once I got my anger down enough to talk to D-M in a civil tone. She glanced up at me and smiled.

"My Daddy took me camping a lot." Well, that would explain why she could make a fire, but if he took her camping so often, why the heck did she run _screaming _while dragging me behind her when she saw two raccoons? I didn't mean just a startled half jog; she booked it all the way to the edge of the lake. It was pretty good that she did, we had been headed in the wrong direction so when she literally turned tail and ran we ended up going in the _right_ direction.

Why was I upset? Because she probably gave away our location to the boys who were now hunting us, or were we hunting them? Anyway, it was something along those lines. I had to pick half of the forest from my ruffled feathers. She ran through everything, and that meant my wings picked _up_ everything. I wouldn't be surprised to find one of the raccoons sleeping in them.

As I sat there plucking the leaves from my feathers, D-M went for the food.

"Ugh, this stuff looks like dog food." She showed me and I shared her disgust. Brown chunks of-something was in the bag and she tried a bit and immediately spit it out. "It tastes like-ugh, like nasty!"

I raised an eyebrow and suggested she get some water to either add to it, or to wash it down with. She shrugged and said it couldn't hurt, and then she got up walking toward the lake.

There was a tingling on the back of my neck as all the hair stood on end. I usually would have ignored it since it was the middle of January so writing it off as the cold was a good guess, but Miss Elements (Storm) had made it feel like spring. They weren't _that_ cruel I guessed.

But the tingle, the feeling that someone was watching me made my stomach lurch. Remembering what Scott said while I paid attention to him was when you were suspicious of being followed, watched, or etc. you must not act like you were being followed, watched, or etc. Pretty easy, neh?

_Sure_.

How was I sure a _bear_ wasn't out there?

I tried to look around the campsite without _it_ (whatever _it_ was) noticing, but I still couldn't see _where_ it might be. For all I knew I could be flipping out because D-M left me alone in a dark forest with things that could pick their teeth with my bones and I _did_ have a fire glowing which was like screaming 'victim!'.

Oh, great! I freaked myself out! Next thing I'd start picturing that there was a chainsaw wielding murderer…_No_! I would _not_ think that! I would _not_!

Then I heard one word, screamed and flew straight up onto a tree branch. Shaking and scared, I looked down to where I had been sitting to see a bewildered D-M staring up at me.

"All Ah said was excuse me." She shrugged and took her place by the fire.

"Don't _do_ that!" I fused, "You could have given me a heart attack!"

She smiled that troublesome smile, "It'll teach you to be alert always now won't it, Summers?"

It was the first time she addressed me by my current last name. Her smile seemed forced and the food in her hands didn't appeal to her I guessed as she threw it down by her sack. Kia, D-M's codename, wasn't a happy camper, _literally_.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" She asked me, I wasn't so stupid as not to notice there was an edge to her voice.

"Are you crazy?" I shot back shimming down the tree, "I'm not eating _or_ drinking anything out here."

"Why not?"

I gave her my best astonished look.

"There are _no_ bathrooms. I'm not chancing it!"

Kia smiled (I had to remember _codenames_ when in uniform!).

* * *

I heard it the first time, but didn't think anything of it.

When I heard it the second time, closer, I knew something was up and it wasn't me or D-M. Dai-_Kia_ was asleep like a rock on the other side of the dying fire. The light in front of me, no matter how small, wouldn't let my eyes adjust enough to scan the area through my marginally opened eyes. Whatever or whoever was out there was drawing nearer, so I figured I'd let it (or them, _please_ let it be a _them_ and not an it) reveal itself to see if I needed to beat it's head in with my backpack or not (it was so weighed down that it packed a more powerful punch than my fist!).

It was most definitely a 'who' as it approached. Fear caught in my throat for the briefest moments. What if it was the strange killer I had been scaring myself about earlier? I tried to calm myself down. The 'dark mysterious figure' drew even closer, and I remembered what Dr. Hank said how my power kicked in when I felt threatened or other times of emotional stress.

Well, stress away!

I knew my breath came out erratically as it approached, by the smell on the wind it was definitely a guy. It was a cologne smell, and my heart melted and reformed and froze and melted again when I recognized _whose_ cologne it was.__

He was here at our campsite! This was _bad_!

I watched him come to my side and squat down, I snapped my eyes open (they were glare ready)

"What are you doing here?" I whispered harshly. _He_ jumped back as if surprised I was awake, and then smiled. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"I thought you were asleep," he answered back, "Come on, let's go somewhere that we won't wake _her_ up." He nodded his in D-M's direction.

"Why should I?" I argued. "There isn't supposed to be any contact," I reminded him. His eyes rolled skyward.

"Stop being such a Scott and just follow me."

I sighed and heaved myself up as quietly as possible. When we were by the lake (about forty feet from the campsite) he stopped, and still whispering, "I came to wish you luck," _he_ explained, with a smile which only failed to work on me once because of my mot-_Heather's_ telephone call. That was when he fought with me and I got slammed into the mats. That was also when he….well, never mind.

"Couldn't you have waited until tomorrow?" I know I sounded like a complete insensitive jerk, but I wanted to _win_ and he being at our campsite would not only get us forfeited, but also lectured. Trust me; the last part bugged me the most.

"And get chewed out by Jean? I mean, come on, wouldn't it look a little bit weird?" I guessed he had a point. If he shouted 'good luck' from across the field as we neared the mansion, it would be a bit curious. He gave me another smile as he pulled me closer to him. I felt my anger melt into that sweet 'oh-kay' dreamy mood, I knew I should still be mad at him for _stealing_ the kiss, but come on, see what you do when you have a highly attractive member of the opposite sex holding you.

"How long have you been watching us?" I asked, fiddling with the edges of his jacket.

"For about half the night." He smirked when my mouth dropped open. "It was hard sneaking away with a good cause, you know." I just shrugged, "I can't stay long it's almost dawn and your team should be on the move if you want to try to win."

"Concerned?"

He removed one of his hands from where it rested on my hip and traced the side of my face, "It would be such a shame for such a pretty face to be covered in mud." Somehow that had no sentiment in it at _all_. I mean, he was basically laughing through it. I guessed I made a funny mental image in his mind when I had my face full of dirt.

"Yeah, well," I said, pushing him away, "I have to go back to the camp and get ready to get to the mansion first, after I get some captives." I was being stubborn or snobby since I raised my nose a bit higher as if I was Queen Kookie or something. "So you can just leave now."

I heard a heavy sigh, "I came to wish you luck, and that's what I'm going todo."

"So get the wishing," I replied flippantly, arms crossed over my chest, and wings slightly lifted from my back. After a few seconds I turned back to where he was, "Get to talking, _boy_."

"_Talking_ not exactly what I had in mind."

This time I had _some_ warning before, again, _bam_. Right in the middle of a semi-fight I ended up kissing him again. Not that I was complaining, but heck, I was still a girl and still wouldn't mind a little bit more of romance in it.

Oh, well, you get what you need not what you want.

As he walked away, leaving me with my head spinning, he gave me one more smile and disappeared into the forest. I didn't want him to go, but I also felt this dread come in me.

_Oh,_ well! It was time to kick boy behind!

* * *

"I can't believe we lost to giant lizard boy, a spark plug with an attitude, and a Freddy Krueger kid," (Adam, Chris, and Adrian).

D-M eyes seemed dark. She had said hardly anything all afternoon. _He_ was right about one thing; I ended up eating several mud pies. I got paired up against Adam, and in the strength department I had him overthrown several times and was about to get to the house when Adam grabbed my ankle and pinned me. My strength abandoned me again, and I was stuck there (did I mention I was on my stomach at the time he dug his scaly knee into my back?). Chris attacked Kia (D-M) because she had made Flex (Adrian) sick to his stomach when he grabbed her.

If for some reason anyone was wondering why I didn't just fly away home, think about it. Chris or _Shockwav_ could fry things at long distances and after my last crash landing I did _not _want to repeat the experience.

In short, because of the loser boy Chris, the boys won out. If D-M had been able to get closer to Chris or if my strength wasn't so undependable, we would have won. Really! When it came back to me, me and my strength were going to have some _words_.

That was, if there are any words left after Scott's lecturing about everything I did wrong, and how I could and needed to improve for future exercises.

"I know you are new to this, but if you don't try to do what's best for the team, to accomplish the mission, then you won't have anyone _to_ lead, Blyt."

Cry me a river why don'tcha?

I messed up, I didn't 'think it through' but I only had less than a _day_ to plan! And it wasn't even fair numbers! Three against two! Oh yeah, that's fair! The boys had strength, a hand fighter, and a long distance fighter! What did I have? Temporary strength and a walking science experiment!

The punishment for losing? Kia and I were told to spend ten extra hours in the weight room and training with Wolverine. Oh joy.

"For your next exercise-"

"_Another_ one?" Chris blurted out, "We just got back!"

"You got back before noon, it is now three when all games are scheduled to end and begin." Scott clarified and then went on, "Your task will be to not get captured by the senior staff who will be hunting you."

"Must you say _hunt_?" D-M's voice was thick with annoyance.

"Track then, you all will be tracked for twenty-four hours straight. Starting at three, and ending at three Tuesday." Tomorrow. I guessed that means we were going _back_ into the woods. Like all bad guys were uncivilized! Please! There were some who had indoor plumbing and nice comfy beds and fridges full of real food not dried shrimp pellets that even a cat wouldn't eat!

"Uh, who's doing the tracking?" I asked.

"Can't tell you," Mr. Warren replied. I bristled.

"That's not right! I mean you know who our team consists of, we should know yours," I protested. Scott's eyebrows suddenly appeared above his visor as if raised in surprise at my little demand.

"That's not a sound basis," Storm fought. "You will go onto the field not knowing what to face when you get there."

I clawed through all the leadership training, and smirked when I found the lost memory I had logged away.

"But a leader never sends their team out to the field without knowing _who_ they are going to fight even though they might not know what they can do."

"Whoa, she has a brain," Chris murmured under his breath.

Scott was smiling again. This was getting unnerving because Storm and Professor were _also_ smiling at me.

"Very well," Professor finally agreed.

"There will only be three of the X-Men on the team. Cyclops," Not bad, "Phoenix," Oh crap. "and Wolverine." That's it! I was sending in my walking papers! How the _heck_ were we supposed to win against a _tracker_,a strategist, and a flippin' _telepath_?

What was I supposed to do? Strip my skin to disgust Jean while D-M made Mr. Logan sick and the other three went all guns on Scott? Yeah, we might last like oh, _three_ minutes. That's _if_ we were lucky. Heck, if we were lucky, we'd walk away with all our appendages intact.

* * *

We_ still_ weren't allowed to go back to our rooms, and the stuff they'd given us earlier had been pilfered through and much of it taken out. We apparently didn't have any need for maps since we were just going to be running away from the big bad bird babe, wolf, and their leader.

"If I die, I'm going to come back and haunt you," Chris said coldly to Scott as we were once again transported and dumped in the middle of the woods.

"So now what, leader lady?" Adrian asked.

"We run."

"Oh, that's original." Chris flung his hands up in the air. "We are dead meat. Can't you use some of that useless information they pumped in your empty head for helping us out here?"

"Maybe she could if you'd stop opening that manure loaded mouth of yours, Bradley!" D-M snapped harshly. All of us stared at her as she glared daggers at Chris who only smirked at her attitude swing.

She was getting more aggressive.

I turned around and found a tree to lean on.

"Let me think for a moment." Rubbing my temples I began to analyze our hunters like I'd been told to do. "Scott, Cyclops is a great strategist. I've read some of the things he's done and even been taught under him, he thinks and rethinks the moves of his opponents." I sighed, "Phoenix is a telepath. End of story. As for Wolverine, he's a regular blood hound on two legs."

"Thanks for the recap. I'm going to go drown myself now," Chr-Shockwav quipped.

I snapped my fingers.

"That's it. We head toward the lake or the river, whichever is closest."

"Why?"

"Because trackers usually go by scent," Ad-er, Flex helped, "water messes it up because of the wind or current or something like that."

"And where did you learn that?"

"Alpha Flight taught me," He said, shrugging it off like it was nothing important.

So we tromped through the forest, and finally we met with a satisfying lap of water.

"Where now, boss?" Adam asked, a grin spreading across his face as he announced we had 22 and half hours to live. We followed the river to the lake, and by the time we got there, it was dark. I didn't want to stop, but one of us had a good night's sleep last night either. So we decided to do the shift thing. Chris volunteered to stay up first. Something about him wanted to know who did snore and who didn't. D-M could have buried that boy ten feet under with her glares. The girl was putting _me_ to shame!

When it was my turn for guard duty, Adam was just going to lay down when he saw me get ready for 'take off'.

"They'll see you! We'll be caught!" He fused at me.

I didn't even give him a glance.

"If they wanted to do that, they'd already had us in chains and gags in _some_ mouths." Mainly Chris'. "Or Jean could have hunted us out with just a thought. I don't think they want to catch us easily or, as crazy as this sounds, unfairly." I looked at him now, "Pretty cruddy deal being treated like a preschooler, right?"

He shrugged.

"Better than being beaten black and blue. Just don't get caught."

This was true; I smirked and took off in the sky. I kept low and to the water as I scanned the edges of the land. Black skin, wings, and hair all came in handy, but I wished I had night vision (and before, I stubbed my toe on my bed frame more times than I would admit!). I was about to loop back and go get some sleep when I saw it.

Just a flicker and it didn't happen again, but I knew I couldn't double back as I had planned. I might not be the brightest but I knew _red_ against black when I saw it. _Cyclops_ saw me and warned me, I guessed. If I went back to the campsite, we'd be busted.

Great, that meant I had to go solo. I landed a good distance away from where Cyclops flashed his power for me and sighed. I was tired, but now I had to spend the rest of the night trying to get back to my group on foot…and my uniform had these fairy boot things (no clue as to _why_) so I had to stay in black form. Yawning, grumbling, and stretching all at once, I set off.

* * *

"Where the _heck_ have you been?" Adam asked, the worry apparent but my sleepy mind brushed it off. "Kia and Flex got caught!" His large lizard hands were on my shoulders, shaking me with each name.

"What! How?" The team, or what was left of it, was mobile and it took me a while (like until six in the morning when I left around two).

"The idiot ticked her off in the middle of the night and they got into a shout fight, she stormed off and Jean was there to intercept her," Adam growled, and in his lizard form, it's intimidating. "But before that, Adrian went after her, threatening Chris with several medical procedures-I won't go into detail, but Logan got him when he headed back. They were close so I picked up Sparks," Chris' nickname, "and ran over here."

"I was-I couldn't come back because they had spotted me, too," I confessed, I wanted nothing but to curl up in a tight ball and sleep (and shower, because trust me this whole 'jungle girl' scent was not becoming). "We have to keep moving. They'll catch us all if we don't."

"And we have to stick together, unfortunately, because they seem to be picking off the ones who stray from the group," Chris added, though he grumbled the whole thing. "And they are probably in ear shot."

Both I and Adam turned to the little light bulb of the group (_ha_!), "_You_ actually said something useful?" I was too amazed to think of anything else to say.

"He said something _intelligent_." Adam stuck his foot in his mouth deeper than I had mine.

"Thanks a _lot_!" Chris shouted. "I see how much I'm appreciated around here." He stuck up his nose like we were going to trip over one another apologizing.

So as a group, we decided to try and move to the mansion by the lake. Then Shockwav muttered something about how we were only supposed to not get caught, not make it to the mansion. I then thought it through and agreed that it was pretty stupid to do what the three hunters thought we were going to do. We couldn't split up, that was for sure, and only _one_ of us had to stay elusive. Adam volunteered me to just fly around until the time came, Chris pointed out that Scott could just shoot me out of the sky. We couldn't confront them, because I didn't know about the other two, but I didn't want to learn to breathe through my neck!

We kept bouncing ideas off of each other and they'd all fall short. We had only seven more hours to go. It was eight in the morning. That's when we were attacked. Mr. Logan charged out of the woods like a bear in human clothing (well, mutant hero clothing which would be spandex) and tackled Chris to the ground (well,into the water at least).

"I think that's our cue to exit," Adam pointed out, grabbing my wrist, and leaving Chris to the highly upset man who was keeping Chris half submerged in the lake's water. Before the trees got too thick I saw white electric energy crackle around Chris and then two screams were sent up from both males' throats.

What a dummy! He electrocuted himself as _well_ as Wolverine!

The next fun trip we came to was a scary looking Cyclops. This guy had the fear factor blazing around him like radioactive waste. I about cried out 'I quit' when Adam shoved me roughly (and almost into a tree!) away from him. "Go to the cliff and fly somewhere," he growled, flexing his claws. I giggled nervously and then took off just in time to see a bright, deep pink flash of light go into Adam's chest and slam him into a tree.

Ouch! These guys were serious!

I ran like I was trying to outrace death (and knowing that _Jean_ was the only one left out there I might very well have been outrunning death). I got to a cliff and for once just dove off the side not thinking about how insane it was to do, but started to fly automatically (I guessed Mr. Warren was right, it just turns into instinct). My skin was already shedding itself from peach to the black.

That's when the sun started to move closer. I wondered if I was just so tired I was seeing things, but soon I saw bright, wild red hair in the middle of the glowing thing as it moved closer to me.

"_Jean_!" I screamed out as she came close enough for me to make out a fiery outline of a bird around her.

"You're caught." She reached out one hand and I felt the air compress me. "It was a good try though, Blyt." yeah, good must not be-

A bright pink flash shot through the air from over my shoulder.

I guessed there went Adam.

Another loss, man, this stinks! I stunk as well, two days without a shower while sleeping 'under the stars' will do that to a person, maybe that was why it was so easy for Mr. Logan to track us. Heck, you probably could be a regular Joe Blow Human off the street and follow us because of the stench!

* * *

When I got back to the mansion with Jean around three (she decided to leave me suspended up there with her to try and get me to talk. I ended up falling asleep (you spend all night running around the woods and see if you weren't dead the next day!).

I was marched to the War room where D-M, Adrian, and Chris were all sitting around the table with looks of pure disgust on their faces. We had lost, again! But how were we supposed to win against the X-Men who probably knew how to do karate before they could talk!

"Where's Adam?" They all exchanged glances of confusion. I looked to Jean and her eyebrows knitted together in question, "Is he still in the woods?" Wouldn't that be just too funny if Mr. Science got lost in the woods.

"No, he's-" Jean shut her eyes and then frowned. "If you four will wait here."

I huffed and sat down. This day sucked. It only got better when Adam came walking in about fifteen minutes later with Jean and Scott behind him and the dumbest grin I ever saw on anyone's face.

"We won," he said smartly.

"Uh-huh, sure. In case you haven't noticed, Einstein, we were all _caught_."

"Not true, Shockwav, I was never caught." My eyes bugged out. _He_ wasn't caught and he went up against _Scott_? X-Man numero uno?

"It's true," Jean agreed, "Adam managed to cripple Cyclops long enough to evade capture."

Cripple?

Scott seemed to be fine to me. Although he didn't _look_ happy, he didn't look like he was in pain either.

"How?"

"When you and I split up after Cyclops found us, he and I fought. During which I grabbed his visor." Adam seemed just _too_ pleased with himself. But it made sense, and that must have been the bright flash of Scott's power when Jean caught me!

Adam was a genius!

* * *

We'd been given the rest of the night off and until twelve on Wednesday. I was thinking the major part of the reason why was because Darcy and Arty were _leaving_ on Wednesday. I stretched and yawned, I couldn't wait to get back to my own bed and to eat _real_ food. I was walking up the hall,after leaving the War room, and I felt a chill go through my feathers and down my spine as one of my feathers was taken off my wing.

"_MMmmmmm_," a deep voice almost purred, I jumped to the side of the hall. My eyes now the size of saucers as I watched the big blonde guy they had captured dragged my feather he'd taken across his tongue. His eyes were closed and a huge evil smile spread across his face. "Does the rest of you taste like chicken, too?" He growled.

I couldn't say anything and my heart was going a million miles an hour. He had dark gold eyes that almost seemed to glow with fire. Was he being disturbing or perverted? Did it really matter? My mind screamed. I knew I should leave, but I was so scared that I stayed plastered against the wall staring at the claws which held my plucked feather.

"What's the matter, pretty bird?" He teased. "Never seen a cat before? Why not open the door and we can play ca- What the -?" Whatever what was going to come out of his mouth was shut up when the window he had been leering out of filled up with ice.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bobby-Jerk snapped. "Don't _ever_ talk to Creed," he commanded and I, just because I was scared, only nodded. I yelped when the Creed guy suddenly beat the door, leaving a good size dent in the door from the other side. Bobby-Jerk's expression clearly said 'ticked off' as he checked the ice around the door again, grabbed my wrist and drug me to the first floor. "I came to get you because we are eating out tonight."

I felt my heart do another lurch.

"_We _are?"

He gave me a tired look. "Get real, kid, not me and you, the whole zoo."

* * *

They must get a discount or something at that Harry's_ Hideaway_ place. The only other time a large group of us went to town; this was the place we ate at, too. Oh well, this Harry guy beamed like the sun when we walked in because I think we alone made his quota for the year. So I was squashed between Bobby-Jerk and Adrian and across the table was the none-too-happy looking Jean.

Darcy was chattering away with Mr. Kurt, probably something religious knowing her and Grandma had to be pried off of Professor Xavier's lap. She was _so_ embarrassing sometimes.

On the whole, it was enjoyable. Even though Dr. Hank had to threaten Bobby-Jerk with the promise of putting estrogen in his milk to keep Bobby-Jerk from trying to sing karaoke. D-M was perky and wanted to try her hand at singing, but Chris 'accidentally' short-circuited the thing and got a lecture from Scott about the proper use of powers.

"Why don't the three of you take a walk around the park?" Miss Rogue suggested and Arty was making out like she was disappointed she had to leave all the '_fine_ young men' behind but Darcy and I were finally able to convince her to go.

"Your new friends are just so cool, Ker-I mean, _Kookie._" Darcy gave me her best innocent smile. "They were really neat the first time, but the longer I spend with them the more I can see why you like it up here so much."

"Oh, yeah," I rolled my eyes and joined Arty on one of the benches; it was around nine at night so no one else was out. Darcy took off to the swings after her unsuccessful attempt of getting me to swing with her. "So you're leaving tomorrow?" I asked Arty after a super long silence.

"Yes."

From the corner of my eye I could see her _staring_ at me. After having so many people do this to me in so many months I was starting to not like it even _more_ than I did before if that was at all possible. "You know, kitten, you have his eyes."

Oh no, not again. "Uh, that's nice."

She was my Dad's mom, so no matter how dumb I might act; I knew _who_ the 'he' she was referring to was.

"And he had your Grandpa's eyes, that bright sea green." She laughed, almost sadly. If that wasn't such a surprise, having her voice come back to normal with no higher pitch trying to sound younger when she talked to me definitely was one. "When your Grandpa died, I didn't think anything worse in my life could happen." Grandma, not ARTY, but a real Grandma sighed, "Then-then two years later your daddy, my own little Zach, I was so lost."

I felt guilt hit me hard, maybe even harder than the night Dad died. He went to the 'next world' in my arms while I cried and screamed and then I didn't tell the truth. I had lied about everything and those guys lied as well to cover up their leader's murder.

"To think, your Daddy was killed because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time." Grandma was on the verge of tears. "When I heard-that he had been 'hijacked' at the grocery store by some rowdy men I wanted to laugh-but then they found his body a few days later…"

Why did you have to mention the lies, Grandma? You think I could ever _forget_? Ever _forgive_? I felt tears start to sting my eyes to the point of crying. I shouldn't be allowed to cry. This night was going so well, why'd she have to remind me of my mistakes? Why?

Sniffling, I heard her continue.

"And then, two years later I hear that his wife, your ex-mother, had kicked you out in the cold and was even taken legal action against you, I thought I'd lost you just like my other two green eyed babies." She turned to me, and put a shaking hand on the side of my face to get me to look at her. "But I didn't because you were looked after by your Daddy." My heart twisted painfully in my chest. Yeah, Dad looked after me, more than she would ever know. "And you're safe."

Safe?

From what? I needed to get off this topic, but instead I just pushed it further.

"D-do you think Dad would have been all right with the-"

"Mutation?" She asked gently, "Kitten, you were the one person he waited his whole life to meet. Your daddy was always a family man, and with you, it became a family."

I might have helped make it a family, but I was also the one that who destroyed it. Somewhere I got the strength to shake my head, "I didn't mean about that."

"Then what?"

"About the-adoption." I felt my throat become thick, "about me changing my name."

She_ snorted_ at me! Here I was bearing my soul and she snorted like a pig coming to eat slop!

"If Heather didn't appreciate you and didn't want to keep her family together, that's her concern, but you found yourself a new family. One who accepts you for who and _what_ you are. And as for the name, this is your new life. Your daddy would have understood. Hell, honey, I changed my name when I turned eighteen."

The heavy mood was broken, (_finally)_ which was a good thing. The truth had been buzzing around my brain stretching against my conscience and _bergging_ to be let out. But I'd just be digging my own grave. I had two family members from the D'mon's talking to me and I didn't need to blow that by a little 'truth' now did I?

"I changed it from Reagan Touwight to Aresia D'mon." My eyebrows shot up. I did not know my Grandmother had _legally_ changed both her first and last name. "It was a fitting name for an up and rising actress such as myself. For the same reason you changed yours, for the betterment of your future."  
I smiled weakly.

hr

"Bye, Kookie!" Darcy waved and I swayed on my feet, _he_ was behind me waving his good-bye and keeping me from toppling over backwards. I didn't even know I was so tired until they had to eject me from my bed (much to my fighting dismay). "You can write to our new address, okay?"

"Uh-huh," I managed out. She hugged me again before running to the cab. Grandma was still inside, doing something I probably didn't want to know about. Then _he_ suggested that I go and see what was keeping Arty. I muttered something that was supposed to mean 'yeah' and staggered back into the mansion.

I made it to the Professor's office because I was lazy and figured he could just get on the telepathic telephone and call the active old lady to tell her to get out the door so I could go back to bed before the 'exercises' started all over again.

I opened the door and was suddenly _wide_ awake in such record time.

"_Grandma!_"

She pulled away from the stunned, horrified Professor.

I slammed the door shut and made a straight line to the front door stoop.

When I got there _he_ had looked confused and Jean gave me the politest, meanest warning glare I had ever ignored in my life. I was laughing and shivering with disgust all at the same time!

"What's wrong with you?"

"I-" I had to swallow and then I got another 'flash' of a memory, "_Eeeww_!"

"Oh grow up, kitten!" Grandma's voice came from right behind me. "And you should learn to knock. I've been trying to surprise him since I got here."

The Professor had a stony expression on his face and for some reason I just felt my spin tingle with another sensation that felt like I was about to burst out laughing. Before I was able to Arty grabbed me by the arm, hauled me to the cab, and wrapped me in a bear hug.

"Now you listen to me, don't forget to call me every now and then, okay?" I nodded. "Good." Leaning closer she whispered something in my ear that left my face blood red. "And don't you _dare_ sleep with that boy until you are married!"

I pushed her back (gently, not like I would send my own Grandmother skittering across the lawn).

"I'm_ seventeen_," I pointed out hotly.

She wagged her finger at me. "Seventeen or seventy, urges are all the same. Believe _me_!" And then she scooted into the car. Everyone else went back into the house who saw them off. I waited until Darcy's waving hand couldn't be seen anymore. I turned toward the house to see him looking all cool and stuff by leaning against one of the pillars in front of the front door.

"Mind telling me what sent you down here like a rabid hyena?"

I started to _snicker_. "Grandma sprang a surprise lip lock on the Professor."

I wasn't the only one who lost their appetite before breakfast.


	52. Step Away & Down

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 052**

* * *

"Welcome to the next installment of 'How to Lose a Team of Teenagers in One Week'!" Bobby-Jerk announced as we (the doomed teenagers) shuffled into the room, heads hung like kids who just got caught with our hands caught in the cookie jar. D-M even seemed to be dreading this, and she's usually the 'happy go lucky' girl (except for the two days in the woods, that was weird).

"What type of punishment are you going to make us go through just to get us out of the mansion?" Chris asked, who had apparently secured himself a pair of sunglasses.

Storm was the one to talk this time, "For the next twenty-four hours, the trainees and the senior staff will be mixed and split into groups of four." At least we stood a chance with the seniors on our side….maybe. "Each team will be lead by one of you," she gestured toward _us_. My eyes bugged out again as my jaw went slack. What _were_ they thinking putting us in charge of _powerful_ people? I thought they were sniffing something when they put me in charge of my group, now they wanted to give us the power to destroy a small nation? To me? To _Chris_?

Oh man, to Daisy-Mae? For some reason I could see her with a crown of wildflowers and someone strumming a guitar while singing 'Let's Give Peace a Chance' or some other hippie anti-war tune.

"If we're in charge, does that mean we can sit on our butts in the mansion and all of _you_ go running around the woods like Tarzan knock offs?" Chris asked, and for the most part everyone just rolled their eyes.

Apparently choosing to ignore his snide remark, Storm continued by picking up a clip board and reading off our fate.

"The first group is, Blyt with Phoenix, Cyclops, and Nightcrawler." Why didn't they just kill me? Honestly, wasn't there some law _against_ cruel and unusual punishment?

"Keeping it all in the family there, Scott?" I was going to hyperventilate, _kill_ Bobby-Jerk, and hyperventilate.

"I have yet to be proven to be related to the Summers," Nightcrawler pointed out.

"Oh, come _on_, you're an X-Man, you have to be related to a Summers, it's some sort of qualification," Bobby-Jerk shot back. Scott's visor started to glow bright, as if he was powering up to shoot someone, just like it did when he warned me at the lake.

"Next team: Shockwav, Iceman, Husk, and Angel."

"Oh _man_!" Chris complained (didn't see that one coming, sheesh). "Do I have to get stuck with _that_ guy?"

Iceman, for his part, actually looked sorta in a small way _hurt_. Not that I was concerned or anything, why would I be? They could fry/freeze themselves for all I cared, really!

"Third team consists of Kia, Cannonball, Northstar, and Wolverine."

I choked on my air. The country _bumpkin _got put in charge of Mr. Claws? Oh-this was not going to be pretty. But suddenly the image of Wolverine skipping through the woods with that danged flower crown on his head (holding hands with D-M who was wearing a matching crown) singing anti-violent songs filled my mind and I started to hit my forehead with the palm of my hand.

"Mental problems?" D-M asked, sounding concerned.

"Just pictures," I whispered between trying not to laugh and not to die from lack of oxygen. I heard Jean start to laugh softly in the corner and I chose to wisely _not_ to look toward my 'parents'.

Storm cleared her throat, "Fourth, is Adam, Stacey, myself, and Gambit." …no mental picture or cute comment for that group, really, I was drawing a blank.

"Fifth and final group is Flex, Rogue, Bishop, and Beast. All the other X-Men who are not participating will be here for the nightly patrols and monitor duties." _What_! Adrian was going to get all the muscle? Flying muscle, 'bounding' muscle, and the big mountain of muscle? Where's the fairness?

Then again, I _did_ have the only telepath who was going to be out there. Maybe I could just get her to make them all act like two-year-olds or something. Maybe make them believe they were Superman and our team was Kryptonite robots or something-oh sure, it might sound incredibly lame, but let me see what the other leaders were going to think up!

* * *

This wasn't a training exercise! This was babysitting! Cyclops was driving me absolutely batty (no pun intended since we were all still wearing the 'fashionable' utility belts), Phoenix wouldn't pay attention, and Nightcrawler had the annoying role of being moody and brooding.

"So what are we going to do in the morning?" Cyclops asked for the hundredth time. I gritted my teeth and shot him a 100% proof glare that would make whiskey stutter. "I was just asking because you _are_ the one in charge."

Suddenly and for _some_ unexplainable reason, I had a serious lust for Storm to strike him with lightening. Heck, I wished _Chris_ was here so _he_ could zap him.

"I. Don't. Know," I ground out. "What do you _think_ we should do?"

I tried to remember that for some dumb reason all the X-Men in front of me were being annoying and nerve grating on _purpose_. I didn't understand why, but after _four_ hours of whining, mouthing off, and repetitive, dumb questions I had the urge to tell them they could march into the lake.

So I have a temper! Just attribute it to _Heather's_ blood in me.

"Okay, then let's start by analyzing them and seeing how we can beat them." Phoenix's attention snapped foreword as her elbow went none too gently into Cyclops ribcage. Apparently he thought I wasn't capable of thinking back to my 'leadership training' and wanted to try and help me. I was so thoroughly annoyed at this point I didn't _want_ to win, I wanted to paint bull eyes on their foreheads and scream 'Shoot them!'.

"Wow," Oh no, Mr. Kurt was going into his sarcasm again. "_Dude_, you like, said something profound."

"Ha!" Phoenix said throwing her hands up in the air.

But just to keep them quiet I began to go through the people, I started with Miss Flying Muscles, (Rogue) I'd seen her get mad. When she got mad, beware!

"So, uh, Mi-" One raised eyebrow from Cyclops, "I mean _Rogue_, uh," I started to rub my temples. I had a headache coming on, my brain felt like it was encased in crystal and three brats (not to mention any names-_Cyclops, Phoenix, and Nightcrawler) _kept throwing rocks at it.

"What do we do about her?" Phoenix asked, popping her gum.

The rules of the game were simple: to prevent any lasting damage to the people or the landscape and to make sure 'bad blood' didn't flow between anyone (except the blood that was already there). We were told to 'take down' members of the opposing teams. Taking down meant that we had to take their teams X badges off (they were all different colors) and replace it with one of ours. If we failed to replace it with one of ours the person was then an enemy and prone to attack _anyone_ at will.

"Hurt her."

"Oh yeah, _hurt_ the indestructible woman, uh-huh, that'll work!" Mr. Kurt was having too much fun with whatever 'role' he was playing. This couldn't be their _real_ field personalities, I'd been on the field with them (and got _shot_) and they never acted like this.

My teeth were going to break if I keep snapping them together as hard as I was.

"Then we'll make fun of her _hair_."

Nightcrawler couldn't keep in role with this, he cracked a humored smile. "Okay."

Scott made a grunted sort of snort that clearly said (in some type of noise language) that the idea lacked a certain something. Probably something like common sense. Heh, oh well, while I was in charge, I would do whatever the heck I pleased. Whether they listened to me or not would be another matter completely. They were _supposed_ to listen; it didn't guarantee they _would_.

I spent another hour putting up with their behavior before I jumped to my feet (more like slowly and awkwardly climbed my way up, try having wings on your back see if you were very graceful) and began to leave.

"Where are you going?" Cyclops asked, and if I hadn't been so fed up with him, I would have sworn he went into leader mode again.

"Crazy," I answered and so what did genius do again when she got mad at Summers? Stomped off into the woods alone. I didn't really mind getting lost this time because I knew _he_ would be lurking around with one of the teams and as my luck was running, I'd run into one of the other teams, get captured, and get into trouble.

Worse yet, get _lectured_ to. There was nothing worse for a person with a very limited attention span than to be sat down and preached to for hours on end.

I sighed and felt the chill from where Storm didn't make the 'spring come early'. Either that or she knew I was alone and wanted to freeze me in place. Storm or Iceman. But, thinking sourly as I had been for a while, I had to admit that Bobby-Jerk would be more likely to try to freeze my uniform and have it shatter off of me, the pervert.

After nearly freezing to death the last time I went stomping off from the boathouse, I would like to pretend that I learned _not_ to keep my head down while walking, but I didn't. And sure enough I got whacked by a branch. It wasn't hard enough to knock me down, but it was hard enough to _hurt_.

I rubbed the sore spot on my scalp and threatened the branch that if it tried anything like that again, it would be fire wood. Then I fussed at myself for talking to trees-and to myself _outloud_.

"Who's there?" Came a very male voice from somewhere to my left. I saw a small glow (fire) and walked closer to it, "Adrian?" I asked as the Canadian looked back at me just as surprised.

"Kookie?" Came Adam's voice from my left.

"Adam?" Came Chris' voice from my right, and from in front of me came a "Chris?"

After a moment, Adrian sighed, "Okay, _I'll_ say it, Daisy?"

Now that we had all been reintroduced (sheesh) we managed a variation of "What are you doing here?" at the same time as the other four.

"Does this mean we have to start fighting each other?" Kia asked, with a firm 'no' from all of us she then went ahead to add, "If I stayed with those _people_ much longer, I was going to go crazy!" D-M exclaimed and all of us quickly agreed.

"They are acting like a bunch of wimpy and whiny children," Adrian grunted.

Adam sighed and sat down by the fire. "Consider yourself lucky; when I left they were having an 'intellectual debate' over what _really_ goes into hotdogs."

Chris didn't say anything. Chris didn't have to say anything, the power tendrils crackling off of his balled fists at the end of his crossed arms said volumes.

"They wouldn't shut up!" Kia continued. "They kept going on and on about the most boring and pointless stuff."

We all joined the other boys by the fire and stayed silent for a moment. Adam must have lost it. After about five minutes of silence a smile that should have cracked his face in half was followed by loud laughter.

"What's with you?" Chris muttered, didn't really sound like a question if you asked me, but no one did, so I was going to not answer it.

"Don't you get it?" He asked, removing his sunglasses letting his exotic eyes show, to wipe a finger under his eyes. They were almost blazing red with black slits, they were just so freakin' cool. "This is a _game_."

I rolled my eyes. No joke.

"Thanks for clearing _that_ mystery up."

"No, you don't understand. They're acting like _we_ do." Adam's observation was interesting. And the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Phoenix was easily bored and hardly paid attention-I did that some…okay, okay, _a lot._ Cyclops was full of questions (mostly aggravating ones) but also had _some_ brain in there that decided to surface occasionally and Nightcrawler…well, I was not sassy.

I wasn't! So I acted up a very minimum and sometimes stuck my foot in my mouth with my innocent comments.

This was Denialville. Enjoy the stay. I lived here.

"I do _not_ talk incisively." D-M pouted, Chris snorted at her comment.

"So what do we do? Apparently this was a lesson on how we _act_ with them, but we are still supposed to be in an exercise right?" Flex poked the fire with a stick. We really must be spending way too much time together we _sighed_ at the same time.

"We can't go back and just say 'we get it'," Adam muttered, I should really tell him he needed to think about getting himself a codename. Although, when we were trying to get ones for ourselves he was called 'Scales' and 'Hulk Jr.', I even heard 'Green Hairless Beast Boy' but that wouldn't fit in the designated line on the form.

"I don't want to fight," Kia said, sticking out her tongue. Chris shot off his mouth and she picked up a stick and began to break it off and throw it at him. For his bad temper he just shot the projectiles (Scott leadership training includes big words for things that would ordinarily not be acquainted with big words, why? To make the leaders sound smart and to confuse dumber opponents…these were the _only_ conclusions I could draw!) with his electricity 'bursts'.

"Dude, would you stop that? You're going to start a fire," Adrian grumbled. "What are we going to do."

I shook my head and sighed, I had been spending way too much time with the Cookie Gladiator.

"We go back to our teams and put up with them." They all looked over at me like I just suggested we go back and kiss each and every one of them. "It's _their_ game. It's _their_ rules. We are only players."

"Suckers is more like it." Chris was getting ready to fight with me when Adrian pointed out that it was for the best. We could just figure something out tomorrow. "Great you have a crush on her and suddenly anything she says is just what _you_ were about to say."

If looks could kill—Chris would have been on the other side of the world by now.

"Get out of here, Sparks. Go terrorize those poor stupid people who have to be under _your_ incompetent charge." Flex then got up and stalked away.

"_Hey_!" D-M cried, and then in a smaller voice added, "you forgot to put out the fire."

Adam and Kia agreed to take care of the fire and then head to their own teams. Me and Chris headed out in the same direction, his team being a bit south of my own. We had been actually talking and _not_ bouncing insults off of each other (for once, maybe I should write down the date or something to mark this land mark occasion?).

"You realize you have a natural ability to repel females," I pointed out after he said something about my weight _again_ (I said we were _talking_, I didn't say it was _civil_).

"Yeah, I know, if I could bottle it and sell it, I'd be rich." When I asked how, Chris (stubborn, thick headed, annoying, pain in the arse _Chris_) smiled for the first time that I could actually recall at me, "Can you imagine how many super stars would love to get rid of the adoring horde of estrogen that are called their fans? Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp…"

"Any one who met my grandmother…" I continued for him, and he did it _again._ Chris _smiled_. A friendly one! I thought I was going to have a heart attack and die from shock! On top of that, he had a _nice _smile.

Yes, hell just froze over.

"I guess, but after talking to her, she kind of does it for herself."

I heard a twig snap, and it wasn't from either of us. Chris didn't notice as he continued to talk, it was coming from behind and to the north. After about two more minutes of talking we said good-night and I watched as he disappeared into the woods. I waited patiently.

If it was someone from my team, I had no doubt they'd let me know it. If it was from someone else's team working by themselves without their supposed 'leader' then I was stuck standing here until they made another noise or attacked (I really wanted them to make another noise). Lastly, I thought it might be one of my other team members (my _real_ team, not the 'pretend' ones, not that the X-Men couldn't mop the floor with us even while in intensive care, but oh heck, you get the point) who wanted to 'talk'. Well, then there was always the possibility it was just…

"_You_?"

_He_ stepped right in front of me.

"Me."

Uh-oh. There were certain things you learned from your parents, one was to never mutter under your breath while they were still in earshot and two, when their voice could make a snowman go for a coat something was _not_ okay.

In fact something will almost always be- ungood? I was making up words I was so nervous!

"Something wrong?" Third thing, never _act_ innocent when the person with the iced over attitude and cold shoulder was giving you the 'eye' and not looking happy.

"_Oh_ nothing much, just taking a leisurely stroll around the woods in the middle of the night, didn't mean to disturb your little rendezvous with Chris right under my nose." Oh great. He's jealous again and of _Chris_ no less!

"It wasn't like a 'love chat' with Chris. Trust me, if you had heard _any_ of the conversation, you'd know that." I looked him square in the eye hoping to get him off his high horse with a pathetic joke, "And if you add eavesdropping to _spying_ then I think we have a problem in this-this-" What the _heck_ could I call this thing between me and _him_?

"This what?" He seethed, his eyes never moving out of death glare stance. So when he got angry, I got angry. It's not empathy; it's just me getting annoyed and latching on to the first emotion that came my way. "This relationship?" I was about to respond when I felt something break my heart slightly when he started to laugh. "Is that what you would call this?" He motioned between me and him.

I was just a little too astonished to think clearly and then my brain got jabbed with a piece of the heart that got broken off as my common sense threw the pieces at my before mention brain. What did this riddle mean? It meant I got mad. _Big_ surprise there!

"Relationship?" I asked like he had just said that we were nothing but figments of a disturbed person's imagination, and then I gave my own laugh, "_Riiiight, l_ike I would _want_ a 'relationship' with _you_. _You_ who only acknowledges my presence when no one else is around. _You_ who flirt with every girl at the school. _You_ who had all the audacity in the world to k-ki-" _Dang it_! Why did I have to lose it at the stupid 'k' word?

"Kiss you, Kerry. I _kissed_ you." He said flatly, coldly. "And right now, seeing this part of you, I can't believe I did either. What's worse is I can't believe I wanted to in the first place!" Ouch. "But don't worry, _Blyt_, I won't be 'spying' on you anymore, or even be hanging around anymore, you can just go have all your fun with Chris." He spat out these words but I couldn't breathe.

"I-I-" Oh good, I wasn't the only one to pick up the Porky Pig Stuttering syndrome, "I'm _out_ of here!" He waved me off and stomped into the woods, I ground my teeth together and stomped off toward my own camp.

When I got back, Jean was still up (Cyclops, the ever concerned, was snoring by a tree and Mr. Kurt was up in the tree with his fingers in his ears trying to block out the Fearless Snorer) and she didn't say a word to me as I plopped down by the fire, arms crossed and I felt my flesh already get the tingle of wanting to leave my body (my skin) to have the black skin 'shine' through.

"Something wrong?" Phoenix asked innocently. I didn't know if she was going to be sincere or not, but I sure as heck wasn't in the mood for a 'chat'.

"Why don't you just read my mind?" I replied. Jean got a hurt look in her eyes and I sighed. "Sorry."

"I couldn't even with your permission, at least not without hurting you. Your emotions triggered your 'defensive' barriers in your mind," she explained, "So do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I need sleep," with that I turned over and closed my eyes. I had my back to her because I could already feel my tears start to sting my eyes and slowly escape. I couldn't believe I was crying over that _jerk_! Like he said (or did I say it?) we weren't really anything to the other one.

But dang it! Why did it _hurt_?

* * *

The exercise wasn't something I would call 'prize winning', the fact that my original team seemed to work together better than they worked with their own separate 'teams' was almost funny. _Almost_. The game was supposed to start (ha ha) when we all woke up and found one another. But little did we know that our teams were tricked.

The 'trainees' had a traitor.

While we had all 'met up' by accident, it turned out not to be such an accident. It was part of their _ploy_.

When we got to fighting, the traitor and his team merely hung around the side lines laughing their heads off about something. It wasn't until we had beaten each other up to the point where grass was starting to taste not so bad that the traitor told us to check out our badges.

They weren't the colors we were assigned.

They were the _traitor's_ team colors.

The jerk had won by _tricking_ us! Apparently he must have told his team to switch the badges as we slept. Why Scott, the ever light sleeper, didn't wake up, or why Jean didn't 'sense' them, I didn't know but my behind was chewed up for this.

I wasn't paying attention as I sat in the War room having Scott go on and on about the carelessness of it all. How I could have been so irresponsible as to leave the team for one moment, "Hadn't the tracking exercise meant anything?" was what he kept saying. I was effectively soaking in what I chose to hear, when _he_ walked in, whispered something to Scott and then without so much as a nasty glance over his shoulder, left the room.

Scott went on ranting and I found the one thing that stopped him from lecturing me into my thirties.

I started to tear up, and no matter what I did to try and stop it, the stupid tears started to slither down my cheeks.

In the middle of how a leader should always think of the mission and team first and not their own emotions (extreme annoyance included) he stuttered to a stop. I didn't even have the heart (which was trying to dig itself to China through the bottom of my feet) to look up at him when Scott finally started to go into _Scott_ voice instead of _Cyclops_ voice, "Kookie, I didn't mean to sound harsh, but I don't want you to mess up on the field if I know I could have taught you how to prevent it."

I still cried, that's when he was completely out of his league.

Crying females must be his stopping point because a few moments later the ever faithful Jean strolled in, took one look at me, and sighed.

"Maybe," I heard her whisper, I guessed for my own benefit (remember the telepathic link thingy? I knew this because I read the 'private' files) "it would be better if she had some time to recover. We can pick up the exercises on Friday."

* * *

Later that night, I had finally steeled myself to go out of my room and hunt down my best friends-Ben and Jerry. They were Rogue's and Storm's but I would gladly accept death if it meant a full stomach of sweet and sugary.

It was mind blowing the amount of 'illegal' sweets were here, after a while I guessed Scott just stopped fighting it. Could you blame him? He'd have over half the mansion ready to kill him if he ever really _enforced_ that law. Professor didn't seem to mind the sugar as long as it kept people on manageable levels of tolerance. Although, on New Year I was pretty sure there was at least ten voices swearing off sweets…right before they cut the cake in the dining room.

I was lazily spooning in mouthfuls of my chosen 'friend' when something happened.

_He_ had all the nerve in the world showing up in the same kitchen I was in (so the mansion only had one kitchen, still, he could have waited). I shot him a glare over my Ben and Jerry's carton and stuck another spoonful in my mouth. My pace went from 'lazy' to 'it's melting fast'.

"You're going to get sick if you keep eating all that chocolate," he pointed out quietly, which was very unlike him in general. But then again, _dogs_ with their tails between their legs might be a bit-cautious?

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm an upset female therefore I'm immune to stomach aches at this moment," I shot before filling my mouth with more ice cream.

He picked up two empty ice cream cartons from the trash and with a half smile asked, "Which did you finish off? The fudge brownie swirl or the rocky road?"

"What do you mean _or_?"

"You ate them both?" His mouth almost hit the floor when I nodded curtly. "How can you eat so much of it?"

"I told you. Upset, female, _hurt_."

He shook his head and with a pitiful laugh sat down. "Guess you're mad at me."

"You got dirt in your ears?" I snapped, dropping my spoon into the half empty carton of Chocolate chip cookie dough. "I just told you -I'm hur-annoyed." So I lied, it wouldn't be the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.

"At me or life in general?" He asked, resting his head in the palm of his hand as his elbow sat on the table.

"Again with the 'or'," I retorted, I didn't want to see _him_ at the moment. I really didn't want to bump into any male but that was kind of hard considering I still resided on the male half of the house. Grabbing my carton, I stood up and made a bee line for the door. If he thought for one moment I was going to just have a memory lapse like he did apparently, he was just _oh_ so _wrong_! I was over the sadness, now I was just _ticked_.

Ticking Time bomb Kookie, coming to a store near you. I shook my head, I really had to stop watching so much TV.

I hit the door and was half way out of it when I gave a huge sigh.

"What?"

He was picking at the table.

"You said 'hurt' not 'annoyed'." _He_ had the 'I'm-being-serious' tone, and I stuck my nose up in the air.

"So I use a wide variety of words," I choked out, oh _no_ I was losing it because _his_ eyes were showing his regret. Sniffling, I continued, "You—I won't force you to put up with them anymore." I finished lamely and took Ben and Jerry to my bedroom where they got dumped into the trashcan.

Guys suck.

* * *

Okay, so my opinion of guys went up slightly on Friday morning only to have it crash back down in flames.

When Cyclops was going through the motions of trying to get us 'hyped' up for the exercise, I was thinking that 'hmm, maybe not all guys suck' but then when he told us how we were going to be spending our weekend I changed my opinion again to 'all guys suck, just not all the time, but most of the time'. Yes, I was now on an anti-guy campaign.

I was trying to cover up being chopped apart by a guy I _thought_ was a friend, and I _thought_was going to be possibly more than that, so I was covering it rather successfully with anger.

"Could you repeat that?" Chris asked leaning forward as I sat in my chair, my own dark cloud of anger having returned to me and the words Cyclops said was drowned out by the thunder going on in my head. "Cause I _knows_ I didn't hear you clearly."

"You will take down at least four of the senior staff," Cyclops repeated. Take down? What did he want us to do, take then down to New Orleans? What the heck was 'take down'?

"You want _us_," D-M chimed in, "to try and win over _y'all?_"

"Yes, that is precisely what we are saying," Storm clarified, for like the third time.

"Say something," Adam nudged my chair and I shot my eyes over to the 'leaders'.

"Why?" Genius strikes again! Watch out Dr. Hank you could be playing second fiddle to me in the near future!

"To test your team, like everything has done this week," Professor answered, "You have tracked, been tracked, and even been put under the pressure of handling more experienced staff members."

I wouldn't call it 'handling' so much as I would call it anger management, and I wouldn't say 'staff'. It made them sound like janitors but it wasn't me talking, thankfully.

"We are interested in seeing how well your team fairs against one of the senior staff when you have to fight to win, and not merely cripple or temporarily wound them."

"Why don't you just ask us to go to Yankee stadium and yell out 'I love the Mets'!" Chris screamed, jumping to his feet.

The ever raising eyebrow was called to duty as it raced up Professor's naked forehead.

"If you think that you and your team are not ready for such a challenge then we will by no means force you into doing anything against your will."

Excuse me; I had to go die laughing now. Everyone else took a sigh of relief and Chris sat back down.

"Of course," could have predicted those two words, "If you feel you cannot attempt this exercise you will remain in your current state as trainees and have to start the whole team over from the beginning."

"What if we accept, and aren't able to do it?" I asked, my rain cloud was chatting with my brain about the weather in Carbo, Mexico at this time, but that's okay I never really used that muscle anyway.

"Then you will remain trainees as you are now, but you will have a more intensive training schedule."

"More practice, earlier and later hours…" Scott was the devil. "Stricter diets."

_The devil!_

* * *

"At least we don't have to go into the woods again," D-M tried to cheer us up, but the black cloud that hung over my head had expanded and rained down on all of us. We had been sitting out on the porch in the back of the mansion for two hours.

The terms were explained to us after we got over the shock of knowing we were going up against the high and mighty X-Men. For one, they weren't allowed to attack first that was _our_ privilege. Two, we had to capture _one_ X-Man for one person on our team; five of us meant five of them. Three, we had until three on Sunday afternoon to complete this task, one minute past and we lost. Four, don't blow anything up. And lastly, if anything 'accidentally' blows up, it's coming out of our allowances.

"This is impossible!" Chris, Mr. Stater-of the-obvious. "They _trained_ us, they're going to know our every move."

"We have to at least try," Traitor remarked, one warning glare and a nice deep growl from Adam in reptile form made Adrian shut up.

"Maybe if we attack at night," D-M offered. "They won't be able to see us, what do you think, Kookie?"

I didn't answer, I just shrugged.

"We could attack at night and then try to attack together as a team. Ya know, kind of overwhelm them?" Adam pitched out, I shrugged again when they looked at me.

My heart and mind was not in this. My body was here and I think I just got bit by a red ant, but I was not 'in' to this mission. I was sick of missions, so sick of 'games' and I didn't mean these exercises.

"So are you just not listening or is miming a new part of your powers?" Chris' eyebrows rose in sync. I sighed and got to my feet, refusing to meet the traitor's or Chris' eyes.

"What you two suggested sounds fine." It won't work, I knew that deep in my heart, but I didn't want to think about some way to _make_ it work.

"So who do we take down?" Adrian asked quietly.

"Someone easy," D-M was quickly answered with a shout from the other two boys that these were the _X-men_ and _hello_ that none of them would be easy. That's how they got to _be_ X-Men, was what she said.

And here I thought it had to do something with them being a mutant and looking good in skin-tight clothes.

* * *

It was late Friday night, that's when the team decided to try and earn our 'keep' (and lose our health might I add). I should have stopped everyone (hit them over the head and tied them to a tree or _something_) but instead I just let the creeping unconcern take over my logical brain (as if I really owned one).

Chris chose the target, and therefore, it was Bobby-Jerk.

Considering all the possible choices, Iceman didn't seem too bad of one, until they dreamed up the plan. The traitor of our group, Adrian, led the team and told them what to do. Since I was leader so when he asked 'does that sound all right?' I would shrug and nod my consent.

I had been learning leadership and strategy from Scott for a while during and I could promise that he was an _excellent_ strategist. And considering I didn't even _know_ what a strategist was before I took lessons from this guy, it said a lot. The point of my little confession? I was being taught to pick apart plans and see where they would come up short.

And Flex's plan was shorter than a blade of grass and ten times as flimsy. But I went along with it anyway, just to make the team happy.

When it was around eight or nine (at night), I waited in the trees like I was supposed to, and when I saw IceJerk making his rounds on the grounds, I reported it to Adam. My job was simple, tell them when Bobby-Jerk was on his way, and then if anyone else showed up, I would warn them about that, too.

I was the only lookout and facing only one direction. You see the problem? All the other directions weren't covered. In fact, they were left _wide_ open. From the boathouse to the front gates, none of it was being watched. Did I say anything? Nope.

Of course I could have been setting myself up for suicide by refusing to shout, "This plan really stinks!" So I was just hanging out in the tree like a good little blackbird when the fighting started. I was just going to sit there, do nothing (like I was told to do and like I personally preferred to do) when that dumb nagging voice crept into my mind and poked me in the behind to make me fly over there.

"Flex?" I tapped my comm. link and didn't get a response. I was above the tree line so when I saw Chris running through the woods I swooped (never thought I'd be able to say that about me!) down and stopped in front of him. "What's going on?"

"That dumb glory hog is going to get us all in trouble!" Shockwav's voice was icy. He wasn't just mad, he was _livid_. "The idiot attacked Iceman by _himself_ to take all the glory _for_ himself!"

"Where's Kia? Where's Adam?"

"Iced."

I felt his anger, or was it because I got mad? I didn't know, but I left Chris and took off toward where they were to ambush the Ice-block-head-boy. By the time I fought the forest and made it to the clearing, Flex was standing triumphantly over a knocked out Bobby-Jerk. Two or three of the senior staff was there in a matter of seconds.

Dr. Hank went to Bobby-Jerk's side and checked him out, apparently Flex hit him in a very vital spot at the base of his skull.

What did I do? Just stood there, my dumb eyes filling up with dumb tears. I never thought I'd see _him_ in this state.

Adrian smugly told me that I was too late and to "Not take credit for any of his hard work." Although he said it with a soft smile, it was his eyes that irritated me. They were _so_ full of himself that is was no wonder they were brown!

And Bobby-Jerk moaned out something about flying forks and blue cats.

"Report to the Professor," Cyclops told us without so much as a glance in any ones but Bobby-Jerk's direction.

* * *

Well, there I sat back in the Professor's office.

I wasn't being yelled at or even being paid attention to. Actually I was in the waiting area outside the Professor's office. Flex was in the office at this moment, behind closed doors.

My stupor was gone and my mind was _finally_ clear enough to realize just how _dumb_ I was.

I should have stopped them. Should have been more of the ridiculous leader they wanted me to be. After all, I was the one being trained, not Adrian or any of the others. Who paid for it? Someone who wasn't even part of my team, Bobby-Jerk. I didn't know HOW they got him out of ice form, but they _did_ and he was lying down in the sick bay now with bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Man, Adam was there to assist Dr. Hank, D-M did what she could fighting off infections while they worked.

She was too tired to do much of anything else.

It was my fault. Adrian _hurt_ Bobby-Jerk. It was my fault this happened.

If I hadn't been distracted, if I hadn't been fretting over some _guy_ then we could have done this better.

That's the only thing I could look forward to, doing better for the rest of the weekend. We still had to get four badges from four other X-Men or we failed. Flex probably was going to get into big trouble because of this, first he turned traitor on us by playing dirty and switching our badges while we slept, and then he injured one of the X-Men on purpose.

By the time it was my turn to see the Professor, Adrian walked out. His pleased-with-himself look was gone now, it seemed almost remorseful. Wishing me luck, he shut the door behind me and there I stood all alone with Scott, Professor, and Storm.

"Sit down, Kerry." Oh no. My birth name, something told me I was going to be in for a _very _lengthy lecture and I learned that Professor was not above talking to someone in their mind to make sure they were paying attention.

Instead of the dreaded sermon, something else happened. Out off all the stuff I had to put up with in the past week, nothing hit me harder than the nine words that walked casually out of Professor Xavier's mouth.

"We want you to step down as team leader."


	53. Conclusion of Hell Week

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 053**

* * *

I felt my teeth rattle in my head as I kissed a rather large, thick, and solid tree. That was the second time in less than ten minutes that happened; I swore those people were trying to make me develop a taste for wood!

I was not a beaver!

"Give it up, shugah," Rogue advised as I detached myself from the tree, and then threw a nasty look over my shoulder at her. "Y'all ain't gonna win."

"Like heck we aren't," I muttered under my breath, taking to the skies again.

"This is not really an intelligent thing to do, Blyt," Mr. Warren screamed at me as he quickly gained on my person. Thankfully I had been 'practicing' enough that I could stay marginally ahead of him. Bad thing was that he knew the landscape better than I did.

Why was I doing this?

Because I had to.

* * *

_Let's say I was a little more than shocked, like bridging on heart attack disbelief. _

_"What?" My voice sounded like a balloon when you let the air squeak out of it by pulling the mouth piece really tight._

_"It will be for the best," Professor continued almost sympathetically, "And after learning about how the latest exercise was conducted, I'm sure your team will agree completely."_

_That's not true! I didn't agree! I didn't agree when they __**made**__ me leader of this team and now they were going 'oops, boy, did we screw up'? And I was just getting __**into**__ this role. Sure I'd been distracted, but that didn't mean I couldn't learn from my little 'oops'._

_I knew the answer but I thought I better ask anyway._

_"Then who's going to take my place?" My voice went from super squeaky to deathly low. I didn't even realize I was letting it show until Professor's eyebrows came together slightly._

_"Flex." Maybe I should have put money on that answer. I figured it would be him since he oh so graciously took over the last exercise in attempt to get all the glory, only to get Bobby-Jerk hurt and us into trouble. "After hearing about how he took over the position yesterday, we have decided he would be a better fit."_

* * *

Just thinking about it made my pick up speed, glancing down I could see D-M and Adrian were having one heck of a time trying to get the ground people away from them. Thankfully, Wolverine was no where around the mansion (late night drinking binge again was what Chris theorized). Still, it wasn't easy taking all this beating and only dishing out very little in return.

I felt the wind pick up and it got nearly impossible to fly straight.

"Storm," I whined/realized. I thought her favorite things were lightning bolts and snow. What did I know? I couldn't even get her first name right!

"Two point two," Came Adam's voice from my comm. link, with a sputter shortly following. "Uh, make that two point forty."

Great! Now I had to keep them occupied and away from Adam and Chris for that much longer!

I gritted my teeth as I flipped backwards and felt the snow start to pelt down on me. This was not going very smoothly.

But neither did the discussion that made me go to extremes like this!

* * *

_I shot up out of my chair and turned toward the door._

_"Where are you going, Blyt?" Scott asked, his voice was in the don't-even-think-about-it tone._

_My shoulders squared up, "I'm going to tell the rest of the team," I replied coolly. "After all, they'll need to know who to follow, won't they?"_

_There was a small silence._

_"Sit back down," Cyclops instructed me, "we aren't done."_

_I locked my jaw so tight it would probably take a locksmith to get it to open again, that or a need for a sassy retort. Neither came, so I just shot a defiant stare in the direction of the 'leaders'._

_"Sit. Down," Cyclops admonished. His arms were crossed over his chest and the other two just kept switching their eyes from me to him. "That's an __**order**__."_

_I rolled my eyes and reached for the doorknob. After twisting it open, my eyes never going off of Scott until I walked out with my face forward and jaw clenched. I heard something along the lines of 'let her go' from Storm, but I also heard heavy footfalls coming after me. My nerves were shot, I couldn't face Cyclops in a face to face confrontation with no one else around._

_"Blyt." I heard him call, I picked up my pace to the staircase. I was about to round the banister and start up toward my room when I felt a vice like grip grab my arm and force me to turn back around. "I said we weren't done."_

_"Does that matter?" I hissed, trying to get my arm out of his hand. "You've said the most important part, what does the rest have to do with me?"_

_He took a deep breath._

_"Don't you think you should know why?" Scott was straining himself trying to keep the -well, I guess annoyance from his voice. If one person on your team was mad, there was no reason to get upset yourself and only make the situation that much more unbearable. That's what I was taught from this man that I now considered my – never mind, it didn't matter what I considered him._

_"I screwed up. I lost the position. Just like Adam." After a tick from the clock, "Heaven forbid someone should actually be human in this house and mess up!"_

_"It wasn't only because you messed up," Scott let go of my arm; I guess he was pretty sure I wasn't going to take off again. "Remember what I told you on the first day that you started to train under me?"_

_I wanted to say that I was successfully blocking out all the lessons now on purpose since I wouldn't have to put them into practice ever again, but instead I just shrugged. The almighty shrug that meant so much and could annoy so many._

_"If you make a mistake as a __**leader**__, then it is your __**obligation**__ to __**correct**__ that mistake!" I-couldn't think. Cyclops had just __**yelled**__ at me. And after facing so many lectures and talks and sermons this was all he said afterward, "I honestly expected __**more**__ from you, Kerry."_

_And then he left._

_It was like I had been in a nice warm pool and Bobby-Jerk iced the water. I was in shock again (my poor heart was going to give up and die on me I knew it). Kookie had been prepared to be blasted in to itty bitty bite sized Kookie chunks, but this-this was not something I could deal with. I also couldn't deal with talking in third person, it was way too Mr. Remy for me._

**_Scott_**_ was upset with me! I was mad, but then I felt like I let him down. It wasn't in the shout (which lead me to believe he had something with onions for lunch), it was in the softer, tired words he said afterwards. Why did he have to say the old 'more from you'? I mean it wasn't like I didn't hear it enough._

_Adrian, that Frost woman, and now Scott! My own Da-uh, teacher._

_I let him down-again._

* * *

"We can't keep this up much longer!" D-M shouted through her comm. link, I saw a glint of metal and I heard a cry of anger. Crap. I guess Wolverine just got home.

"Do your best," I managed to eek out over the line. I was freezing and decided that the first thing I would do once this was over was demand better footwear. Why I didn't get _real_ boots I hadn't a _clue _but I was sure I'd be blue like Mr. Kurt if it hadn't been I was already 'dressed' in my black skin.

_Wham_!

I was slammed in the back by Angel and was traveling (very very _fast_) toward that ground which I thought could be considered part of my diet since I was eating so much grass and dirt. But before we got there I was able to flip us in mid-air so he was face to face with me and I spiraled upward after I was sure he wouldn't be able to catch a current back up before crashing into the dirt.

Which was exactly what he did.

I swooped down lower (to check him out, to avoid the strong wind currents and a very feisty southern woman) and landed next to him.

Nothing was bleeding, and when I heard him groan I made quick work of what I needed.

With my 'mission' accomplished I started to flap my wings again.

* * *

_Saturday was when I almost put five holes in the kitchen's table top. Dr. Hank had finally told me if I didn't stop that he'd extract my fingers the old fashion way. Miss Rogue was on the hunt for the one who dared touch her ice cream (again) and Scott was firmly telling her she shouldn't have that substance in the house. That brought about a whole discussion/fight between the two that soon most of the household was part of._

_Not me._

_I had been planted in my seat so long that the foot I tucked under me went to sleep._

_When I was thinking, actually sitting down and __**thinking**__ things out, I became incredibly focused and completely ignorant of anything going on around me. That's how I was when D-M, Chris, and Adam basically threw themselves through the kitchen door._

_"What the __**hell**__ do they mean you're not our leader anymore!" Chris' so polite way of putting things didn't even faze me enough to give a response beyond a bored expression cast in his direction._

_"Tell me it's not true!" D-M cried, "Adrian can't be taking over!" She grabbed my shoulders and shook me, "Say it isn't so!"_

_I knocked off her hands._

_"Sheesh, it isn't like I'm dying or anything," I huffed, "Get a grip."_

_Perhaps I could have been nicer, but I just got rammed into 'not good enough' file in the Professor's opinion, more importantly in Scott's opinion._

_"You're taking this as bad as us," Chris observed. My roots suddenly dissolved from the chair as I pushed myself up and away from the table. "Admit it."_

_Okay, this was getting annoying._

_"What's to admit?" I tried to keep my voice level. "I was fired. Even if I get mad, what's the point? I'll still be just another member." One glance around and it was quick recovery time, "No offense."_

_"But we talked about it! We don't want Flex to lead us, he's-too shy." D-M tried to pinpoint the right word but come up short, the word she was looking for was __**pliant**__. He usually didn't want to make enemies with anyone. Not really leader stuff, but who knew? Before today if you asked me if I wanted the job it would have been a huge resounding 'no', but once I lost it, I wanted to vainly hold onto it with my toenails dug into the position._

_"When did you learn about it?"_

_"Like, all of two minutes ago," D-M huffed and sat down where I had been for the past two hours. "It stinks."_

_"Did you try to fight?" Adam questioned innocently._

_I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head, "No." When I opened my eyes I had Adam's red 'critter' eyes staring intently back at me. Under such an expressive (ha-ha) gaze I flinched back. "Their word is law around here. You know that. Does Adrian know?"_

_"No, not yet. Last I saw of him he went to go kiss butt to Drake," Chris snapped. "And as for 'their word'…who cares? __**They**__ aren't the ones who are going to be working together on that field, __**we**__ are. They have their own team with their own problems. We have our own team and they are giving us problems. It's stupid not to let us choose who we want to follow."_

_"It's out of our hands," I reminded them, "I'm outta here. You all can sit and fuss about it until you die but it isn't going to change anything." And then I left the kitchen. I walked out to where the discussion about junk food or not to have junk food in the mansion was still going strong. I thought it would be over with when some of the females said that "If we can't have junk food, then no more beer." That got Mr. Logan on their side in point seven seconds._

_Despite how entertaining the show was, I marched up the stairs and to my room._

* * *

I heard D-M cry out again and then I watched her run and stumble.

She was hurt. I wasn't so stupid as to not realize it.

When I went to dive for her, I felt my hair stand on end from the pure electric current that speared down in front of me.

Storm was getting upset, "This has gone on long enough!"

I turned toward her voice, I checked my watch, and quickly shook my head with a grin. It wasn't going to be 'long enough' for another minute and forty seconds. "Not quite."

Then a pink/red beam sliced through the air, between me and Storm. I let out a shout of surprise then looked down to where Cyclops was standing, hand still hovering over his ear piece which controlled his beams.

I couldn't do anything to him.

I had to prove to him I was worth! Wait, that didn't make sense, I had to prove I was _worthy_.

* * *

_"Can we talk?"_

_I rolled over on my side and let my wings stretch out behind me comfortably. What a trick question. If I said no, he'd stay. If I said yes he would stay so I answered with the bratty teenager 'you-may-talk-but-I'll-block-you-out' answer of, "Whatever."_

_"Glad to see you're so enthusiastic," Sam said with a half smile._

_It was the only laugh and smile in the room. Besides Stitch's smile, but he was already happy. I didn't want a happy person (or anything that reminded me of _him_ around me) so Stitch was thrown into the closet a while ago and the door slammed shut on his fluffy behind._

_"What did you want?" I asked wearily._

_"To talk." No duh. "Can I sit down?" I nodded and moved my legs so he could drop down on my bed. "Ah heard you got the boot."_

_"Don't try to be consoling or anything."_

_He smiled broader; you know that smile that had me crushing on him when I first got here._

_"And before ya ask, they didn't send me up here on a mission of mercy or anythin'. Scott and Ororo don't know Ah'm up here, but Ah don't really care if they did." To the point Sam, to the point, I was only seventeen for a year. "Ah came to give you some advice, if you want it that is."_

_"Maybe you should talk to Flex, _he's_ the leader now," I reminded him in a not happy voice. I wish I didn't lock Stitch up with my sneakers, I would be hugging him about now for comfort. But then I'd remember who gave him to me and I'd end up throwing him across the room again._

_"Ah heard. But Ah came because Ah thought you'd be the one that would appreciate what Ah had to say." He gave me an amused look. "Have Ah even started to net your interest?"_

_Raising my eyebrow, "Maybe."_

_"Ah had to share leadership with one of my team members." Oh here we go down memory lane. "But Ah ended up with the leader role because Ah was tough." My other eyebrow rose. "And the fact that my co-captain decided to stay on Asgard." Ohkay, now I was lost. "Anyway, what Ah want to point out is that with the X-Men, with the Prof, you gotta stiffen up. Ya know, kick a little?"_

_"A little what?"_

_His blue eyes laughed at me I swore it. _

_"Ah was taught never to say that word in the presence of a lady." Oh well that's okay, there's no lady here. "Don't tell them Ah was the one that told ya this, but-ignore their order and lead your team, but just _win_."_

_Easy for you to say, Sam._

_"Yeah sure, no problem," I sighed and flung an arm across my eyes. "How do you purpose I do that?" I felt his weight leave my bed._

_"You can figure it out, Ah know you can." Then I heard my door shut a moment later._

* * *

That was the almighty words of wisdom given to me by the 'one who had gone before' man.

"_Done_!" Adam's beautiful, wonderful just in the nick of time voice came through. "Get away from them!"

I saw Flex and Kia abandon the fight and start to run like Wolverine just split into ten clones and decided he liked the taste of Canadians and Bumpkins. Knowing full well Storm would never use her _full_ power on me (I hoped) I started toward them.

This was our one shot and we had to be the ones left standing…no matter _what_.

* * *

_I wondered back down the steps not too long after Sam's little 'kick a little' speech. I had an idea. A completely dumb idea, but at least it was mine and the fact that it was labeled dumb was proof of the fact. The junk food debate had found a winner apparently because everyone was gone from the main room. When I asked Mr. Logan about it, he smirked and said that Scott agreed-only if they upped the number of practice sessions per week. After that little 'compromise' the ladies quickly dwindled but the name calling under the breath persisted._

_When I pushed the kitchen door open, I found the majority of my team in there. They all head their heads hung and bored expressions on their faces. None of them even cast me a curious glance._

_I ground my teeth together, "We are so pathetic!" I yelled at them. The other three looked (after jumping out of their skins from the sound of my voice) at me like I had just proclaimed everlasting love to a frog or something. "If we want to show them what we are made of then we got to do it right!"_

_They all continued to stare._

_"What are you talking about, dummy, we _did_ do it right!" Chris threw back sighing and zapping his coke can across the room. "Except for that double crosser, we're going to get stuck going through all that crap we already went through again."_

_Daisy-Mae's eyes teared up and as she sniffled, "Ah don't like being yelled at."_

_"But we already had our chance, we lost," Adam reminded. "What are we supposed to do about that?" He was upset, we all were. No big surprise as to why._

_"We only lost because we played by the set terms." I let a sly smile go across my mouth._

_"And?" Chris added, giving me a knowing look._

_"And because I didn't take charge," I confessed, "But that's about to change. We are going to beat this."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"They gave us the limits, but they never really gave us __**rules**__. If they want us to show them what we are made of, what we learned, and just how ready we are to get out of the mansion and kick some serious butt, then I say we forget their methods and try winning this game-a different way."_

* * *

I felt myself go completely still. I was waiting for Chris' voice to be heard.

One second.

If I didn't hear him in nine more seconds, then I knew that either Jean or Professor found out about our little ploy and we were so severely 'busted.'

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

* * *

_I met up with my team in my room at midnight. Adam related that he was able to navigate into the computers in the med. lab, and actually found something that could be of interest to us._

_The X-Men had apparently gotten hold of Magneto's goofy helmet (yes, that's one name I could get right, before I had come to the mansion I was following mutant affairs pretty closely) and took it apart. What the heck did this have to do with anything? That's something Chris asked as well, Adam pointed out that there was a ribbon of electronics which worked to block telepathy._

_That was like an angel chorus singing to my ears._

_Adam went on to say that there were certain things in our packs which he could use to make a rough telepathic blocker (he had a technical name for it but I didn't want to cram too many technical words in my brain, I might sound smart and then they might expect me to do something earth shattering!). It wouldn't be strong, and it wouldn't last more than probably two hours, but it would provide _some_ protection._

_But, with his limited supplies in the pack, Adam was only able to make two._

_"Who gets one?" Kia asked (we were all in uniform)._

_"Adam does," Chris was about to fight me on this, "and Chris." Now Sparky looked just plain confused. "Look, I've been told by Dr. Hank that I already have this freaky 'blood defense' working against telepathy in my brain. I don't know the particulars, but that's what he said-simplified."_

_"So you already have something against Jean, you don't need it."_

_"Exactly."_

_"Is there any way for you to build a stronger one, Adam?" D-M asked, her voice getting a bit on the creepy side again. "In the future?"_

_"Sure, but not right now," Adam muttered back, cursing as he got 'zapped' by the protesting machines as they were being dissected._

_"What's the plan?" Adrian seemed to be rather-distant? Like almost a guilty feeling? To my knowledge no one told him he was the new leader, yet._

_"Uh, plan?" I asked innocently, his jaw dropped and I cut up laughing. "Just joking, relax! The 'plan' is simple. When Flex made us do the stuff, we attacked together and only one X-Man." They gave me the characteristic 'you're-wasting-our-time' look. "But with this idea, I think we can pull off bringing the required number down." I took a deep breath and hoped I got all the kinks worked out, if not I'd never be a leader again. "Chris, you can see electrical currents can't you? Like Bob-Iceman does with water?"_

_"Yeah, he can 'see' or 'sense' water I can do the same with electricity, follow it's currents and redirect them and crap like that." Good, whew, I wasn't sure about his powers in that way so it was a huge relief to know my plan wasn't going to blow up in my face at step one._

_"Great, then you get the job of scrambling the cameras and their communication system." I smirked. "We'll use other means of notifying each other." Another breath, then I told Flex and Kia their part in this fiasco._

_D-M about choked on her tongue, "That's not nice!" was her protest._

_It was time to try what I pepped talked to myself before I was told I wasn't going to be in charge anymore. _

_"Kia," I made sure her name was said as sweetly as possible, "I'm not asking you to do this," a ghost of a smile started to form on her face. I changed into 'Cyclops voice' "I'm _telling_ you what you are and what you are not going to do and you will do it no matter how upsetting it is to you."_

_"Bu-!"_

_"_No_ buts. You want me to be leader than you have to, guess what, follow my lead." She snapped her jaw shut. "Now, you aren't to punch, kick, or use hair removal processes on these people. Just get them sick or out of the way so Chris and Adam gets enough." Her eyes were narrow slits. "Do you have enough illnesses and stuff like that, uh, stored up?"_

_"Yes." Wow, another time I might have had to excuse myself to find a jacket after she spat out that icy little syllable._

_"Ricca fraggin' dumb piece of dumb machinery," Adam's voice cut through. We all looked over to where a very big and green Adam was now tinkering with his broken little toys. After a few seconds of silence he looked up, "What?"_

_"Uh, Adam, can you need to listen, you kind of have a role in this too."_

_"Oh sure, _ask_ him but _command_ me," D-M grumbled into her hand, one sharp look from me and she continued whatever she was going to say in her mind._

* * *

Six, come on Chris!

I couldn't stop flying, well I could…but anyway, I didn't want my feathers singed either by Scott or Storm. We had purposefully ticked them off by starting the fight _in_ the mansion—in the Danger Room to be exact. We were supposed to be just strolling around like we were on a Sunday walk as a three person team when D-M casually reached over and struck Professor with some kind of instant sleep sickness. Then the controls were ours.

Unfortunately, none of us ever figured out how to _use_ the stupid thing control board. Sure, we could press all the round and square shiny buttons, even flip a few switches but we didn't want to accidentally kill anyone.

Seven, and no we didn't want to kill anyone on _purpose _either!

* * *

_It was five in the morning, I had only gotten about three and half hours of sleep. We'd gone over the plan only once and after making sure Mr. Logan wasn't around, I went over it with each member separately. I was in the bathroom puking my guts out again._

_Kia got me sick, at least that's what my dark little brain was wailing out between throwing up and being thoroughly disgusted with what it had to see._

_My nerves were shot. I was completely nervous and so I threw up._

_I made it to the toilet before I had reason to clean up the floor, so I sat there on my knees with my legs freezing from the floor._

He_ didn't come, not that I expected him to. Really!_

He_ was probably still asleep and even if _He_ was up, he probably didn't care in the least._

_"Dumb jerks," I muttered to the toilet which probably would agree whole heartedly. "Selfish idiots." I was on an anti-guy campaign _still_ and proud of it. Maybe it would have been better if I just didn't give him the time of day. After all it seemed to me that I was nothing but a 'play thing' in his toy box._

_I was not a toy! I was-about to lose yesterday's lunch _again_._

_I knew it was nerves, but I was going to blame _him_ for it. Why not? I mean it wouldn't be like I'd ever _be_ with him._

_Ugh, I am going to be gargling everyone's mouthwash the rest of the morning (it's not like anyone uses it anyways)!_

* * *

I didn't get to my team below as 'eight' clicked by in my head, but part of the team got to me.

Well, _slammed_ into me would be more accurate.

"Kid gloves are off, shugah," Rogue drawled as we went ninety to nothing to the ground. As I made a new Kookie sized crater in the very _solid_ ground, I thought my teammates better be _very_ appreciative of what I was doing for them! "You attack us, we attack you."

I groaned and dislodged my face from where I left my mark (literally) in the dirt. Then I got a wicked idea and with a fake groan collapsed to the ground again. I waited until Rogue was right behind me, shaking my shoulder and calling my name.

"_Rogue_!" Someone screamed, "Watch out for her-!"

_Wham_!

I shot my wings straight back and sent the lady of green flying backwards into the trees.

"Wings," a different someone finished. I scrambled to my feet just as Storm decided she wanted my wings on her mantel as she shot lightning bolts down at me.

Nine, where the heck _was_ he!

"Attention X-Men," _Chris_! He did it! He was talking through their comm. links! "The mansion has been taken and the Professor caught." D-M and Adrian were panting, grasping their stomachs and watching as each of the X-Men looked down at their badges (those who still had theirs). "You can't take it back either because it is now three o'clock. Game time is officially over!"

Do I really _need_ to repeat the next few words which came out of Scott's mouth?

The first one was 'office' the last one was 'now' and it was said in my mind as well as outloud.

* * *

"You are not team leader. What right had you to put your team in danger?" Professor wasn't as furious as I thought, in fact he seemed sort of laid back (as much as this guy could be, I think I'd die if ever I saw him in khaki shorts, sandals, and one of Bobby-Jerk's Hawaiian shirts type of laid back). Even after we, uh, 'attacked' him (D-M healed him right away once we were sure it was really three and Bobby-Jerk didn't set all the clocks back as some weird off handed joke).

I braced myself for an onslaught of questions, and I had even taken a guess as to what they were going to ask me. For once in my life at the mansion I was actually prepared for what he was going to go on (and on and on and on) about like some ancient bald broken record.

He was glaring at me, whoops. Memo to self: learn to think quieter before they lynch me.

"I had every right to put them in the exercise since, according to your rules, the exercise was not over. I started out this week as being the leader of the team, and it was my _obligation_," quick glance at Scott, "to see it through."

"Your team already put Iceman in the infirmary and now the entire network is being rewired after your 'siege'." Yeah and I was still trying to cough up all the rocks I ate when I was slammed into the ground by Rogue. "And this happened under your orders, correct?"

"Yes," I admitted, sighing. "But keep _me_ back if what happened wasn't by the book, but let them go forward at least. You can't blame a dog for doing tricks on command."

"Dog?"

"Well, sure, I mean if you get basic with this place it seems almost like a mutant obedience school. " _Ahhhh_! Shut up! Shut _up_! "You give the command and we do whatever trick it is you taught us to do." I should be banging my head on his desk (which brought an interesting question if they ever thought to polish and color the Professor's head for Easter like an egg). Man! They already considered me a failure! Now I'd just added _rude_ to that description!

I couldn't believe I just referred to myself as a dog. I was female. Therefore I would be a female dog. Good thing Chris didn't hear this, he would never let me forget I gave my 'permission' to be called such a name. So I laughed nervously and found a feather to toy with, "And I guess with that comparison I just put myself in the pound."

"I see," Professor said, with (gasp, shock) a half smile. "You do realize you still are to step down as leader?" I nodded. "Then I believe Storm and Cyclops have something for you and your team."


	54. The New Stuff

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 054**

* * *

I huffed, "Do I really have to do this?"

Storm gave me a sympathetic smile, "Yes, child."

"Couldn't I just throw it out there and let them figure it out?" I asked hopefully. I really didn't want to do this, anyone catch that? It was radiating off of me like the rancid body odor that permeated the boys' locker room.

"It's not hard." Yeah, then _you _could do it. Scott laid a hand on my shoulder and I tensed up (more than I already was and my shoulders were practically part of my skull since they were so drawn to me). "Go on, Blyt."

With shoulders slumping (and the song 'Do Your Ears Hang Low' barging into my mind) I walked into the Rec. room where most everyone was waiting. _Great_, I thought I was just going to have to do this in front of my team. Nope, I had to do it in front of _all _the current residence of the mansion! Ack, poor people. I knew telling my team the news wasn't going to be anywhere _near _pleasant.

When I walked in with the 'big' people of the mansion I heard every one of my team members try to suck all the air in the room into their lungs. I was holding my breath. I really didn't want to tell them.

"Spill it," Adam instructed. "Before we all go crazy."

"Too late," Bobby-Jerk shot, and Chris glared at him. Adrian looked like the old Adrian all sheepish and stuff.

"Did we pass?"

"Uh," I hung my head lower and held out my hand in their general direction. "I need your comm. link badge thingies."

"Way to be professional," Bobby-Jerk commented. I would have glared at him, but decided to give my feet a nasty look instead.

"_Ohhh_," D-M pouted, placing her badge in my hand first, and the other three followed. "So what now?"

"Adrian gets to tell you that." I went and sat down in a pitiful lump next to Adam on the floor.

"I do?" His was higher pitched than his normal languid tone. "I don't know anything!"

"_Blyt_," Scott warned, I looked up at him. "Fine, we'll tell them."

"The team did, in fact, _pass_, with flying colors."

"And electric bolts," Chris muttered.

"We are proud to give you your team badges." With that, they held out the new badges. They didn't seem very different from the ones they had just turned in, but the new ones were _authentic,_ die hard ones that every other person with an X and above drinking age wore.

I still didn't want to tell them.

"Cool!" D-M squeaked, "They have, like, our codenames engraved on them!"

"Gecko?" Adam asked when Storm handed him his new badge. "Did you get inspired by the Geico commercials?" She smiled. There was a round of congratulations and the such, during the middle of Bobby-Jerk pretending to want our autographs I slunk out and up to my room.

It wasn't because my team did well, it was because they weren't _my_ team. I also want to think of the comment said to Adrian that 'in the future, I'm sure your team will do even better'.

* * *

It was Wednesday by the time Adrian caught up with me. We lived in the same house, in the same wing, on the same _hall_ and it took him three days to catch up with me. And not even at the house, it was at _school_.

"Can we talk?" That was an ever popular question with me these days. I really didn't _want_ to talk, but I figured since he was my leader I had to listen (ick, I needed to go gargle Pine-Sol with my brain). When I said yes and we were in a 'secluded' part of the cafeteria (no funny ideas!) he began to talk. "How could you let them make _me_ leader?"

Uh, that certainly wasn't what I expected to hear. I thought he would gloat or tear me down because I didn't let him have the control of the end of Hell Week. But, apparently, I was wrong. What did I know?

"Because you did a good job." I wasn't sure if that would constitute as a lie because that's what they said in a very roundabout way, (I think).

"B-but I've never done anything like this before!"

"Oh and like I was a pro? Please, I was always the last one chosen on the play ground. Not exactly leadership material." I rested my chin in my palm and glanced about the cafeteria. D-M and Chris were trying to get Nikki over the fact that -well, I didn't know what they were trying to do. Bobby-Jerk was standing near the lunch line with an extremely 'I am better than you' look on his face until Miss Reese began to wipe said face with her handkerchief (after she wet the material with her own spit).

"Well," he finally said to get my attention, "I guess I'll just have to do it." I looked over at Adrian as he shrugged, "Might even do a better job."

_Glare into the seventh realm of Hades!_

He seemed to notice my '_Glare into the seventh realm of Hades'_ and added, "t-than I thought I would! A better job than I thought I would!"

"Excuse me," I said in false sweetness. "I have to go and—stick my head in an oven."

"Kookie! Wait!" I turned. "I-if you want to talk about it…"

"There's always Stitch," I snapped and stomped off to find one of my _none_ X friends.

* * *

In Mr. Drake's class, I tapped the end of my pencil as I tried to work through the quiz. Finally, after much sighing and huffing Bobby-Jerk called me out to the hall.

"Want to tell me what the machine gun pencil is about?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"Sounded like you were drilling for China to me." He studied me and then sighed. "What's on your mind, kid?"

Gummy bears and grenades!

I bristled. "If you knew what was on my mind, you'd send me to the office."

One eyebrow shot up. "That graphic?"

I didn't reply.

"Listen, Kookie, if you want to talk…"

"Let me guess, go and talk to someone who cares?"

"Uh, not exactly."

"If I want to talk about my non-existent problem, I have a _friend _who there for me." Which apparently meant I'd have to drudge him up from the depths of my closet (poor Stitch). Then I saw him (Bobby) turn and scratch the back of his head. Ouch. I forgot, Adrian hit him there. It wasn't too obvious unless you knew where to look. D-M had patched him up again after she rested, but there was still a scar. "H-how are you?"

Mr. Drake caught my gaze.

"Now you care?" So I got busy with being tricky and trying to win! "I'm fine, get back to class and no tapping or I'll take your pencil away."

"What am I supposed to do? Write in blood?"

He shrugged. "As long as you don't die, why not?"

_Jerk_!

Mr. Drake and Adrian were in the same _Jerk_ boat!

* * *

The following Saturday, I was back at the boathouse door, about to knock when Jean opened it suddenly, "Come in, Kookie."

You'd think after so long, I'd be accustomed to telepaths and their knowing stuff, but I wasn't. I still liked to believe I was part of the real world, and the real world didn't have people with wings or people who could read thoughts.

"Uh, I just came because I left some stuff." Jean smiled and nodded saying she had to leave to do some shopping and that Scott was still there (who groaned at the word 'shop'). So she was off and with a quick 'hi' I ran up the stairs to the room I had stayed bunked in over Christmas.

I guessed after getting caught up in Hell Week, being demoted while the team I was part of was promoted, I forgot most of my stuff at the boathouse. Okay, so not _most_ my stuff, but more importantly, I had left my Dad's gift to me.

Throwing things into my duffle bag (which was nicely folded on the dresser before I laid hands on it) I jammed as much as I could into it. There was more junk in there than I originally thought!

There were some things of Darcy's but I ignored the tugging in my mind and just mixed it in with my stuff. But the one blasted thing I wanted to find…I couldn't.

"No, no, no, no," I chanted as I ripped the bedding apart. I knew it wouldn't be there, the sheets had been changed since I slept at the house. I checked under the dresser, in the dresser and even ventured into the bathroom (bad memories) and picked apart in there.

No take.

It was _gone_. I felt my stomach bottom out at that thought. It _had_ to be here. We might be the 'evolutionary' link but to my knowledge little black boxes did _not_ sprout legs yet. Wouldn't that have been my luck to be the first one to witness it? Worse than spiders! Running jewelry boxes!

Okay, so maybe the stress of starting school was getting to me.

"Where _is_ it?" I asked to no one. Surprisingly, no one answered. I huffed and tipped over the side of the bed until my head was on the ground and the rest of me was leaning over the bed (aka my rear end was up and I felt the blood go to my face).

I heard a laugh and dumb me tried to look, but this threw off my balance. I ended up flipping off the bed and landing in an ungraceful heap looking up at Scott as he smiled down at me. He was either putting laundry up or he was really weird about towels. "Do I want to know?"

"Just getting, uh, some practice in." I gave a semi-smile at which he shook his head and left me to my antics.

Dad's gift had to be around here _somewhere_!

Darcy wouldn't take it; she was too much of a 'goody-two-shoes' to ever _steal_ something. She had a problem with taking _free_ samples at the grocery store! She was perfect, we used to fight when one of my CDs ended up in her disc player, but it was 'borrowing' not stealing (technically—or so she claimed).

Of all the blasted things I could have lost, why did it have to be Dad's gift?

Why couldn't I lose D-M's gift of a 'black book' which Chris stole and gave back to me full of cartoon characters. From Donald Duck to Emperor Zim (I was more impressed that he knew so many cartoons than anything else, I mean come on-a black book! What was I going to do with it?).

Where had I put that _thing_? Gah, That's _it! W_hen (if) I found it, I was going to amputate those pesky legs it must have grown. Dad would probably roll his eyes and say it's typical of me. I was always losing things…okay, new path of thought.

Where was it! I wanted my Dad's gift!

After another seven or so minutes of going through the room eight hundred million more times and not finding it, the frustration and fear was starting to blister my brain. It _must_ have because in my fit, I shouted.

"Dad!"

Oh, bug.

I felt like I just willing stood in front of Husk and said I was going to run to Las Vegas and elope with Mr. Warren.

Instant death (or petty hair pulling) was guaranteed.

I waited in dead silence. Maybe Scott hadn't heard me?

I would be _so_ happy if Scott hadn't heard me.

My heart turned into instant ice when I heard some floorboards creak. Maybe he had more towels to put up?

Yeah! That made sense! That meant I wouldn't be embarrassed! That meant I would be—

"You-yelled?"

—way too lucky.

By the time I found my voice (probably ran off with my legged jewelry box and was laughing it up in Tahiti or somewhere like that) I stopped making dumb hand jesters trying to get him to understand and instead started to stutter like I was going on a first date (I've had _one_ and that counts!), "H-h-have you s-seen my, huh, I left uh, a jewelry box-here?"

My face was red because I was doing my over-the-bed acrobatics again so he couldn't see the blush.

"That was yours?" Hello! This wasn't a hotel, who else slept in his house? "Someone came and picked it up."

Who the heck else _knew_ about it?

"Who?"

I was praying that this would make him forget about the whole I-called-you-dad-while-completely-lucid thing. Hopefully, he just heard my voice and responded to my raised voice (but I was also grumbling the entire time I was in there, man, I was so embarrassed). Then Scott said _his_ name.

My mouth dropped to the floor.

"What did _he_ want with it?"

Scott shrugged, turned to leave and then threw over his shoulder, "He said he was going to give it to you, take it up with him."

Talk to _him_ or not get my dad's gift back. Or there was the third option of waiting until _he_ was out of his room and I could sneak in and look for it.

But, something odd occurred to me, as weirded out as I was about calling Scott _'Dad'_, he didn't seem to think anything about it at _all_.

* * *

"So why were you so depressed when we got our new nametag badge thingies?" D-M asked two weeks _after_ we had gotten them. We were stuffed into the school bus heading to the high school. It was too early in the morning to poke and prod me; my defenses were with Stitch, still warm and peacefully asleep in my bed. "We passed, that was good news."

"I don't want to tell you."

"Stubborn. Why not?" She was so dang pushy and pretty soon the other two from our team were practically in our seats trying to hear what 'news' I was withholding.

"Don't want to say, and you can't make me." Bratty reply, but one that usually always worked. Usually.

"I can." Adrian's smile was so-_argh!_ "In fact, I _order,_ you to tell us."

"Jerk," I muttered and then let out a long sigh. "Fine, if you _must_ know we were given a team name."

They stared at me.

"Well?" Chris actually wasn't sounding too bored about life. "This whole suspense thing is overrated."

"Sort of like guys' emotions," D-M shot and then turned to me. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"Because the name is dumb," I bemoaned, I didn't fight about it with the Professor. I wasn't leader anymore. I didn't have a right to fight with the snotty people in charge (I was not bitter).

"It can't be that dumb. Sam told me they were called the New Mutants, what could be worse than that?" Adrian tried to be reassuring, but I glared at him and he cowered.

"What is it? X-Bait? X-tras?" Chris gave a short laugh to his own dumb names. "X-Rated?"

"X-" I rolled my eyes, "We are going to be known as the X-Citers."

For a moment they didn't say anything. D-M looked at me blankly (yes, that was a different expression than what she normally wore). Adrian just sat back in his seat. It was old faithful, mouthy Chris who just made the day by piping off: "We sound like freaking _porn_ stars!"

The entire bus heard him.

Oh, save me…


	55. Road Rules

There was something ever parent or guardian feared to hear from their teenage kid.

One little sentence which shipwrecked their world.

They were staring at me, coffee cups half raised and eyebrows now completely blended in with their respective hair.

"Can you repeat that?" Scott choked out, putting his coffee cup on the hallway table. I caught them on the entrance hallway before the metal tunnel to the danger room and the _big_ cat man.

This worked like nothing I had experienced. Scott and Jean were almost dumbfounded! It was a good thing they were in such good condition or I'd have been afraid they just had a heart attack. Jean tipped her head to the side and blinked at me.

"What?" I asked, was it _so_ unbelievable.

"What you just said. Say it again." So I did. Then, then he started to _laugh_ nervously. "Are you serious?"

"I'm asking." I pointed out; Jean just sucked in a deep breath and let it go _really_ slowly. "Look, I'm seventeen it's not unnatural or anything."

"But don't you think that this is—too soon?" Jean tried escaping verbally.

"No. Adrian and Chris already did it. I think even _Adam_ did it already."

"But you're _not_ them." And the world was thankful for _that_.

"No, or I would have done it already. Come on," I whined.

"We'll—talk about it later; you're going to be late for school."

I groaned in frustration and rolled my eyes. What was the big deal?

* * *

Alexis poked me with her pretzel stick. "What'd they say?"

"Before or after they were resuscitated?" Back in Home Ec. with Miss Reese, who was flipping through a Bride's magazine, I guessed Bobby-Jerk had a surprise in store for him! They weren't even _dating_.

"Took it that bad, huh?" Alexis asked. "Don't worry about it, I told my dad I was pregnant." _Huh_? "And then said that I wasn't and told him the truth. After the first shock, he was more than happy to give me what I wanted." She smiled shyly. "After I promised to never sleep with a guy, like ever."

"That might work," if _he_ didn't totally blow it with me. But I didn't care, I was _so_ over that guy. Nope, hardly thought about him at all. He didn't want me and I didn't give two feathers about him! "But they'd never believe it and before I could say I was joking, they'd have me in stirrups in front of a doctor." Dr. Hank and his _complete_ physical.

"Sorry, girl."

"What are you two yakking about now?" Chris muttered, raising his head from his arm nest.

"Nothing that concerns you, Bradley," Alexis snapped, "Go back to your little disturbing fantasy."

Chris looked over at me, I avoided eye contact. I could just hear _him_ in my head accusing me of liking Chris. I did _not_ like Chris. I couldn't _stand_ Sparks more than half the time! And then he gave me a semi-smile before dropping his head back into his arms.

* * *

Two days later, it was the weekend and there I was begging my 'parents' for their attention. "Please?" I started out, "Pretty please?"

Scott shifted nervously, "I don't think it's a good idea at this time."

"But if not now, then when? The sooner we start the sooner we get it over with." I reasoned, stooping as low as to give him the big eyes and pout face. I was breaking him down very slowly. He shifted on the couch and tapped his water bottle on his shoe.

"Why do you want to?" _Gee,_ I wondered. "There are plenty of the people around here who would take you where you want to go."

"But it's about vehicular freedom!" I protested. "And maybe _no_ one wants to go where I want to go!" I huffed and plopped down on the couch. "It's _just_ Driver's Ed…"

He grumbled something, "You aren't going to stop until I say yes, are you?"

"I'll stop when you sign the form that says you said it was okay."

Scott sighed again. "Does this mean that we have to teach you how to drive?"

I checked the dates on the class schedule, maybe this could be payback.

"Probably, I mean it's just now the end of January and the class won't start until the beginning of April." I smiled innocently.

"Fine," He took the paper and pen from me (hey, what could I say, I made sure to be ready). "But you'll have to ask others to teach you as well. Everyday starting tomorrow."

* * *

It was after school that Scott was talking about, when Jean was told she laughed and said he needed to toughen up against the 'puppy' look.

Was I in a car? _Noooo_.

I was nowhere _near_ the garage. I was in my study session with Mr. Drake, Adrian, and Chris. It took Bobby-Jerk three weeks into school to finally realize that something wasn't quite right with his grade book. And when he realized all the grades (usually penciled in) were changed permanently (thanks to me and a big black pen) he was trying to kill me with his eyes. Mr. Drake always gave us our tests, quizzes, and homework back, so there was no way to tell who was making what in his classes. I was so proud of myself. I had been making a C-, now I had an A+.

"How hard _is_ this for you?" Adrian complained. "I have to go to those leadership classes before dinner."

I would have thought of some nasty names, but all negative energy was directed toward Bobby-Jerk and his explanations of why I couldn't get understand the math. Pig. He thought the reason I couldn't figure it out was because women were usually bad with keeping track of money, and since I was barely a _girl_ that, of _course,_ I would do even _worse_ than a full grown woman.

I think he was just sore because Mr. Warren proudly presented Bobby-Jerk with a credit card bill (ya know, the credit card _I_ got to use in order to buy all my gifts?).

"I have to go; I have CDs to burn and people to e-mail." Chris left.

Another one excused himself to say he was going to the bathroom and left me alone with _him_. It had been three weeks and some days and normally things didn't affect me very much (_riiiight_) but I still didn't know how to act around _him_ in private. This was usually the time when _he'd_ openly flirt with me. But now?

Now _he_ kept his head down and didn't even spare me a glance.

"Moron," I muttered.

_He_ looked up at that, "What?"

I crossed my arms, shrugged, and wistfully replied, "Nothing."

_He_ rolled his eyes and was about to go back to what he was doing, then at the last second he looked at me.

"You know, I'd _love_ to sit here and fight with you about the _'whatever'_ but just so you don't waste your time pining over me. I've already moved on."

I was not going to kill him. I was not going to cry. I was not going to get hurt by that. I was not!

But it was too late, I was already hurt. But I was _never_ going to cry in front of this guy again!

He wasn't worth my time!

* * *

"Hey, girl, do you have plans next Friday?" I looked up from the cookbook I was being forced to read for Miss Reese's class. Pick any recipe (as long as it didn't end up in the form of little, uh, men).

"Not that I know of." Like the X-men got faxed schedules from the bad guys. Again, of course, I wasn't even supposed to go on mission missions with the X-Men because I wasn't the X-Citers (stop laughing) leader.

"Great, then you just got yourself a plan." Alexis dropped a flyer on my desk and went to the other side of the classroom. Picking it up, I read it and was completely confused. A 'lock-in'? At school?  
After she sat down again, without me even needing to ask, Alexis went into an explanation. "It's something the school government is putting on. We get locked in and stay up all night doing stuff." She shrugged. "It was either that or _another_ dance."

I made a face, my apprehension skyrocketing. "What kind of 'stuff'?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Summers," Chris bit out. I guess we woke him up. "Haven't you ever gone to one of these things before?"

"No." I looked the flyer over again, "It sounds like a prison sentence."

"Don't be like that! It's going to be cool. Mr. Drake is co-sponsor and Miss Hot-to-trot-Reese is sponsor. Mr. Drake is even getting some of his friends to come and chaperone." Say _what_? The X-Men as baby sitters? What was the world coming too! They might be able to handle four teenagers (Adam's 20) but a whole _gym_ full of hormonally charged, caffeinated high schoolers?

Then, then I smirked, what a perfect Kodak moment.

"So you're coming." Nice to know what I was going to do on the weekend. "And, guess who is going to be there." I shrugged. "Adrian."

"Big deal." I scowled at the desk top. "Probably trying to get some more 'personal' time with Nikki Jo."

Alexis seemed surprised at my reaction. "What's wrong? Isn't he your guy friend or something?"

"Or _something_, her and little Adrian had a—falling out." Chris gave me a wicked grin, "Something she's not overly happy with."

* * *

Wednesday's driving lesson session:

First rule when driving with Scott: bring own CDs. I never thought he'd be someone who willingly listened to Justin Biever. But I put on the radio and I was blasted back by _Boyfriend_.

"Now you don't want to add too much pressure to the gas pedal, it's sensitive." He then went on and on about the importance of rearview mirrors and how I should always go the speed limit.

We hadn't even left the garage yet!

"Now, you don't need to check out your make-up or anything _while_ driving, wait until you've parked. Don't slam on the brakes, don't …" He went on for another five minutes. His 'no' list was as big as Mr. Poovey's!

Sheesh, finally fed up with it, I asked, "Am I just supposed to _imagine_ me driving?"

"It would keep insurance costs down."

_Oh_ sure, _now_ he got a sense of humor. I growled/sighed in annoyance and listened for the next half hour of my lesson about what to put in the glove box, the trunk, how and where to park, yadda yadda yadda bored me to tears.

* * *

Thursday's driving lesson:

First rule when driving with Miss Rogue: Do _not_ drive with Miss Rogue!

She was _insane_ behind the wheel as she showed me how to drive. The car spent most the time on the _wrong_ side of the road because she couldn't stand to go slow and passed up _every_ car that was dumb enough to get in front of her.

When we _finally_ made it back the mansion an hour later, I fell out of the car and kissed the pavement. I was alive! I had been in the passenger seat on the bullet train to heck and lived!

* * *

Friday's Driving Lesson:

First rule when driving with Mr. Remy: don't use _his_ car, apparently he didn't pull over for cops and he had several warrants for speeding, reckless driving, and so on, you name it he had it.

I was _finally_ behind the wheel, creeping up to the proper speed limit and feeling a _tad_ nervous when a cop pulled up behind us and didn't pass (I was going ten under, after Miss Rogue, I was too scared to even _consider_ of speeding). Mr. Remy was cool, just telling me occasionally to straighten up and stuff, and _then_ the cop put on his lights.

Suddenly Mr. Remy became a devil. His head whipped back to see the cop, cursed as he grabbed the wheel and made an impossibly _sharp _turn on to one of the back streets. I was too shocked to obey his 'gas it' command so he pushed down _hard_ on my leg and sent us careening (to our deaths I was sure) down a dirt road and the cop tried to stay up with us, but Mr. Remy made a million turns.

By the time Mr. Remy was sure we successfully lost the cop, I was trying to let my heart catch up with me. I think it was flung out the window on one of the taken-on-two-wheel curves.

"You okay, _petite_?" I looked over at him with jerky movements and then without a word of explanation I found the door knob and ran out of that car. Did I mention I was screaming?

* * *

Saturday's Driving Lesson:

First rule when driving with Mr. Logan: never touch the 'flammin'' radio.

Apparently he liked this Hank Williams guy. A _lot_. He let me drive and I felt safer with him. If we got pulled over he'd just growl at the cop or something.

Or so I thought.

I swore that cop _waited_ for me.

We had just driven into Salem Center to pick up something and were headed back to the mansion when the blue and red lights started to flash. My heart stopped (it was getting quite a workout that week) but thankfully Mr. Logan told me to pull over.

Unfortunately what we went to pick up was Mr. Logan's case of beer for the week. And wouldn't ya know? There was one _sitting_ in the cup caddy. _Opened_.

"_Weeelll_, what have we 'ere?" The cop asked. He smelled like onions and tuna. If I was dying from it Mr. Logan must have been in real stench caused pain. "An under-aged drinker? And who are you, pal? You sure don't look like this girl's old man."

"Better," Mr. Logan quipped as a smirk started to deepen on his face.

"Oh, yeah? Mind tellin' me what you're doin' in the back woods with a kid and beer? What's your relation to this kid?"

"Ain't none of your business, bub."

The cop snorted. "We'll see. I need your license, registration, and proof of insurance."

Mr. Logan went to digging around in his glove compartment for what the copper wanted.

_License_? That's what I was working toward if I could survive the instructors from heck.

"Uh, I-I'm just learning how to drive. H-he's teaching me." After getting the papers from Mr. Logan, I handed them to Onion cop.

"Everything appears to be in order," He handed it back to me after he'd gone to his car and left me stewing in my own nervous sweat for ten minutes. "Are you a licensed driver, _bub_?" Mr. Logan grumbled and started to fish out his wallet, handing the piece of plastic to the man, the cop nodded. "How do I know that you ain't trying to do something funny with this girl, pal?"

I muttered under my breath and hit my head on the steering wheel, could this be any worse?

* * *

Sunday I was in the Rec. room hiding. I did _not_ want to go out and learn to drive anymore! After that cop threatened to track Mr. Logan down and roast him on an open flame if my body was found dead on the side of the road, there wasn't anything _worse _that could happen to me!

Until Stacey volunteered to teach me.

I didn't need that cop pulling us over for indecent exposure!

"Kookie?" It was Jean, why did she even have to say my name? She had that brain power to hunt me down! "Come out, come out wherever you are."

Which would be huddled in the closet with the extra pillows and blankets.

That's when I heard Scott's _not_ too happy voice, "Blyt. Get out here _now_."

It was just lucky for him that I tripped over the end of my wings and went sprawling out of the closet. In my own little heap of feathers, limbs, and Snoopy pillows I stared up at the couple.

"Why weren't you in the garage? Stacey was waiting." And I was sure a person like her wasn't used to that.

I sighed/moaned.

"You win." I muttered, when he asked me a sharp 'what' I repeated louder. "_You _win."

Okay, so louder would constituted as almost screaming.

"I don't _want_ to learn to drive from you people!"

"You begged me to let you do this."

"I _know_ but that was before I knew you people treated the road like the Danger Room. And there's even a psycho cop who has it _out_ for me!" I got to my feet and tried to make my way to the couch when I heard Jean laugh. Was this good? I didn't know.

"Why not try everyone before deciding who you want to be taught by?" Jean asked, "And then you can learn from them. Let's just start listing off the people."

Scott made a noise in his throat, an irritated 'this was going to take forever' noise. Jean started to list off my previous teachers, and after I explained to them what happened, they agreed I shouldn't be taught by _any_ of them (even Scott!).

"Storm, Ororo?"

_Ooohhh_ so _that's_ how her name was pronounced. I guess I could try that name instead of slipping and calling her Miss Oreo for the rest of my life.

"Don't know, haven't tried."

"Bobby?"

Gag and snarl, "Uh, that wouldn't look right. H-he's my teacher after all!"

"What about someone on your own team?" Scott suggested after they listed the mansion's role call. "Adam? Adrian? Chris?"

"Adam's busy with online courses and Dr. Hank. Chris-one of us would eventually go missing. As for Corbo," I spat, "I don't think he'd be a good teacher."

"You're still upset about the leadership?" No kidding, buster.

"No," I lied, big surprise. "I just don't think Nikki would like it very much."

I was _not_ bitter. And I, apparently, was going to get driving lessons from Storm.

* * *

In the middle of downloading a mindless, free computer game, the lights flickered. Checking outside, the night was clear and that only meant one thing.

"_Chris_!" I banged on his bedroom wall. "Cut it out!"

I heard him shout something back and I groaned in frustration and irritation. Stomping to my door, I opened it and went to Chris' door where I lightly knocked on it. When he opened it up I tried to not strangle him. "What did you say?"

"I said 'I don't want to.'" And then he _slammed_ the door on me! I heard the lock click and my fuse was burnt to a crisp.

"_Sparks_!"

The lock un-clicked and an annoyed Chris looked back at me. "What?"

"I just wanted to say," I saw what he was doing over his shoulder; the idiot must have had twenty different appliances torn up and dancing with electrical currents. "Go French kiss a socket."

I thought Adam was the only mad scientist on this team.


	56. Lock In & Make up?

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 056**

* * *

If homicide was ever made a sport, Chris and Alexis' heads would be mounted on my wall.

Chris, big surprise, right?

But Alexis, little human Alexis, what had she done? She was responsible for making me sit through a perfect nightmare. Stephen King would stand in _awe_ of this! This got a new freaking rating higher than 'R' if ever it was made into a movie!

"Come to the Lock In," she said, "It'll be _fun_." For _who!_ For _him_? For his _interest_? I was so _mad_…but let me start at the beginning.

I'd say it started with _Chris_.

Chris was a little instigator. After three more days of flickering lights and rebooting computers from lack of electricity, I waited like a cat (with two big black wings) for him to leave the his room to take a shower. I thought I would have to wait a few _months_, but no, he actually headed that way about an hour after I decided on this course of action.

So here the master thief in training (me) was making the _oh_ so long journey to his door (all of seven feet) via tiptoeing (no really, I was) and Mr. Remy rounded the steps at this time and I froze.

"What you doin'?"

"Uh," Breaking into Chris' room didn't sound smart, but neither did the image of me with one foot raised in the air my toes pointed down and the other on the ground. "I-I heard that r-rats love noise so I'm trying not to distract them?"

I watched him, and when he started to laugh at me I unfroze and forced myself into a more natural pose with hands on hips.

"You need to learn to lie." He continued to chuckle as he went to his room. I stuck my tongue out at his back.

I walked to Chris' door and turned the knob, but wouldn't you know? The little beast of burden _locked_ his door? Where was the trust?

Better yet, where was the Cajun? I smiled as I called Mr. Remy. He only started to laugh again as I asked him to help me learn how to break into a bedroom.

"You cute enough to have dem _invite_ you in."

I shivered at _that_ mental image.

"Yeah, right." Without another question, Mr. Remy worked the lock for two seconds with his pick and the door swung open. "Thanks." I waved, as I went in.

"Just don't take anyt'ing big." And with that he went back to his room.

Chris' room was lit by hanging Christmas lights of purple and green (Halloween anyone?) so I tripped over his clothes and other junk. There was electric thingies all over the place. Most of them had their 'insides' on the 'out' and divided up into neat (well…as neat as they could be in this mess!) piles.

What was he up to in here?

"Hey, Chris!" I heard _him_ talking to Chris and my heart started to run around in my chest in a blind panic. Oh crap! He didn't take as long as I had thought (okay, hoped!) and I was _in_ his room still! That really stunk (no, really his room smelled like corn nuts and burnt hair)!

If I was smart, _if_ I had a functioning brain and if my fear didn't have me going 'what do they do on the movies?' I would have headed to the _window_ and flew out. I didn't do this. Nope, instead I did the _really_ dumb thing—I crawled under his bed!

I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or laugh. My wings were close to my body and weren't visible from the doorway (I prayed). Once I saw his bare feet come in, the door shut, and the towel hit the floor I had this great urge to claw my way through the floor. I squeezed my eyes tightly together. I did _not_ want an eyeful of unexpected surprises.

After _forever_, I peeked and saw the bottom of his jeans over his bare feet. Oh thank goodness. He was dressed! I would have sighed in relief but that would have given me away. The last thing I needed to do was provide this guy with ammo and odd ideas about me.

But then again, maybe those odd ideas weren't so wrong. I was hiding under his _bed_ for crying out loud and after breaking into his room. The only thing to do was to wait until he left to go to the bathroom again. I'd wiggle my way out then and laugh about this later (like on my death bed).

But something _else_happened. Someone came to his door. I heard a knock and watched as his feet made their way from the desk covered in electrical 'guts' to the door and then saw a pair of painted toe nailed feet walk in, giggle and the door was shut and locked behind her.

Daisy-Mae.

I was more surprised then, well, whatever else I could be at that moment. And then?

Then the reality came slamming into me like a ton of Sugar cookies (with icing on top-and sprinkles, couldn't forget the sprinkles!).

A boy and a girl were in a room together.

A room with a _bed_.

A room with a locked door and a bed.

And me under the bed, in the locked room with the boy and the girl.

Please, please, _please_ let my gutter-mind way of thought be wrong!

Then I heard the bed creak, I saw the back of their heels. If they were observant they'd probably feel my shaky breath on the back of their legs, but they were doing _something_ that kept them distracted. I didn't want to think about it. As long as their feet were on the floor I was happy. Even though the weight on the bed caused the mattress to press down on me.

Then I felt someone lift and drop a few times on the mattress, I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from grunting at being used as a trampoline.

"Your bed got lumpy." D-M continued to test it out by bouncing on the darn thing. There was going to be a Kookie hole on his hardwood floor if she didn't stop that or my gallbladder was going to be coughed up.

"Really? Huh, must be because they're so cheap around here."

Good, they were _talking_. Nothing ever started with _talking_.

I thought so at least.

Another question popped into my head like a mutated and angry flower under the sun of fear, why didn't Jean say anything about _their_ inner team relationship?

Then I heard another knock, I prayed that it was someone to drag them both away, but _nooo_ my luck was holding out (as in still being bad).

"Come on in Adam." Adam? What was _he_ doing here? Don't tell me this was some disgusting-_ack_! Mind out of the gutter! Telepaths didn't pay for cable, they got free 'shows' in my head!

"Hey guys, what's up?" _Ow_! Did he have to sit on the bed, too? _Ouch_. "And why the secret meeting in the dead of night?"

Ten o'clock was _not_ the dead of night, might be the dead of _Kookie_ if Adrian popped in, but not the dead of night. Professor was going to get a big surprise when I went crashing into his office from being pushed so hard into the floor.

Wings didn't help.

"We got to get Adrian out of office, he's driving me crazy," Chris started. I felt like clamping my hands over my ears but I couldn't, one was smashed under my stomach while the other was still clamped over my mouth. "Kerry's the only one that actually does a half a-" I was not going to relate that word, "job."

"Adrian is weaker than a new born lamb. He doesn't tell us what to do. "

"Well, it isn't like Blyt is Miss Dominatrix," Adam argued lightly, if I wasn't blushing then, then I was going to be, "But she def has the outfit for it."

_Adam_! I started to bang my head lightly on the floor.

"So what are we goin' to do?" D-M chimed in.

"Give her a whip and some stilettos."

There was a sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh.

"Get your mind _back_ here, hon."

"What else can we do? Xavier won't hear us out. He's got a power problem." Chris sighed and I heard the bed creak, he must have laid back. "And we can't talk to Kerry; she's got her head so rammed up Scott's butt-"

I resented that!

D-M made a noise. "Yeah, that's true but at least she's got a reason. Adrian just wants to kiss Cyke's butt all the time to avoid gettin' in trouble with the other prisses in power."

I wonder if Adrian's ears were ringing.

"The only plausible conclusion would be to conduct ourselves in such an illogical, non-functioning way that they would _have_ to reinstate her."

Then there was silence, me personally, would have whipped out my trusty dictionary to translate just what the heck he just said. Adam was too smart for someone so young...then again, maybe I was too dumb for someone my age.

"Duh," Came Chris' reply. Duh was good, duh I understood with no problem.

"Ah guess," whoa, country coming out of the D-M! "We can just like, completely ignore him or something in training sessions."

"Just blow off his directions?"

"Yeah, ain't that a good idea?" She asked sweetly (like the sweetly before they chased you around the house swinging a knife at your back).

"Actually it is." I could almost feel Chris' smile. "You had one successful idea, congrads, you met your quota for the year."

Gag.

* * *

"Come on, Kookie!" Scott shouted from down the stairs. I grumbled and threw the last of my stuff into the back pack. "They'll lock you out."

Oh, and I was supposed to cry? Alexis owed me _big_ for this! She mentioned the lock in a week and some days ago, what she didn't mention was it was actually a _middle school_ lock in with high school 'role models' to baby sit the brats. Not only was I doped into doing this 'as a friend' but Mr. Drake also convinced other sponsors.

I thought it would be great if Mr. Remy or Mr. Logan was some of the 'volunteers' but they weren't. Dang it! And the ones who were available got roped in after Scott and Jean wanted to do the parent thing and spend quality time with me (and about 150 _other_ people who were probably celebrating their escape from parenthood for a night). Stacey was recruited—and ex-prostitute who still dressed and acted the part, what part of that was _good_ role model material? Paige was a candidate but considering she was barely older than me (and complete jail bait to Mr. Warren) she was turned down. It was 3 'men' and 3 'women' as far as that goes (and in some cases, only _technically_ male).

Oh, no worries, I wasn't the only teen to be roped. My entire team also decided to go to this oh so fun thing. Alexis owed me super big.

I hefted my backpack up and got down the steps (stomping down them) and met with an impatient Scott.

But enough of the boring prep work let me get down to the nightmare. First off, I was one of the first ones there (Scott was painfully punctual, I was not). Alexis was chatting with an older man who I guessed was her dad. Then she spotted me and dragged him over to us.

"Hey, girl!"

I felt Scott and Jean (actually heard them bickering about something) come up behind me.

"This is my dad, Reverend Moses Mickle." I had excellent control over my jaw (either that or the gum I had been chewing on was so sticky it glued my teeth together) not to let it drop in surprise. Mr. Mickle smiled and said he heard a lot about me. Mostly good.

"And these are…?"

Uh, good question.

"T-T-this is uhm, my pa-er, Mr. and Mrs. Su-these are my-" Understand my dilemma? I didn't want to say 'Scott and Jean' and hurt their feelings…I guess. And I didn't want to say 'Dad and Jean' and freak them out along with me (and possibly hurt Jean's feelings) and 'Dad and Mom' might cause them to get that weird look again. No, I never called Jean mom, she's not bloodthirsty enough remember?

Although for a split second I had an almost irresistible urge to go, 'This is Barbie and Ken.'

"We are Kookie's parents," Jean cut in. "I'm Jean and this is my husband Scott." When they went into adult parent lingo Alexis snuck me away. The gym was getting pretty full by then. Mr. Drake and Miss Reese had shown up with the 'volunteers' from the mansion in tow.

"Can you _believe_ it?" Alexis scoffed, "_Reese_ almost has her spinsteresque claws in Drake." She frowned and turned to me. "And I was going to marry him!" I rolled my eyes; something caught her attention over my shoulder, "Oh and look at that. _Dis_-gus-_ting_!"

I looked where she was looking and saw Nikki-Jo hanging on Adrian's arm and a fussy Chris trying to fend away a clingy D-M.

"Yeah," I said to her comments on both couples. "Big deal. I don't have time to babysit."

"So you keep saying, girl." Alexis looked over to where my parents were getting important looking clipboards with white-out designs on the backsides. "Your parents must have started pretty early."

"Huh?"

"They had you at, what? 10 and 12?"

I faltered. "I-I was adopted by them!"

"Oh, that explains it, doesn't it?" She sighed dramatically, "and it makes it just so boring."

* * *

The night got on a 'roll' by nine and there were hyperness and (according to Stacey) hormones radiating of the 'kids'.

I got stuck with the eighth graders who were going through that 'I-know-everything' stage (it was just lucky for them I was going through that 'there-are-too-many-witnesses' stage). I was with Alexis, Adrian, Bobby-Jerk ("Mr. Bob since it was the weekend") Miss Reese and Nikki. There were more girls than boys and therefore more female 'chaperons'. Stacey was going crazy muttering about image inducers and teenage hormones.

Mr. Mickle had some of the 'responsible' males come to our side. This meant Adrian and 'Mr. Bob'. The junior high boys were upset to lose a 'sports star' but got over it quickly when they started to pick on Scott.

Mr. Military Man was losing it to a bunch of kids!

Good thing he decided not to wear his 'cool' X-Men uniform (spandex wedgies anyone?).

"Okay, now let's start to have some fun." Alexis chirped.

The couples were busy with each other and I tried my hardest to ignore _him_ as he relentlessly flirted with his girl of interest. Me, Alexis and Stacey started handing out whatever it was that we had to give them. The stuff was in a little plastic bag.

When it was time for nametags, one of the smart aleck girls asked where they wanted the sticker nametags put, Stacey sweetly responded, "Over your mouth?" They didn't mess with Stacey anymore.

Wish I had been that clever.

I searched the gym with my eyes for the other people from the mansion. Jean was having a blast with the sixth graders it seemed, they kept gawking at her hair (or her chest, I was not sure) as Scott looked like he was finally relaxing with the same group. Adam and Chris were goofing off and I saw that Adam's name tag wasn't where-oh my, well, let's just say his name tag with 'gecko' on it ended up on his pants (you do the math, I was not saying another word). And Mr. Jean-Paul was saying something (probably none too nice either) as another kid wowed over his ears.

After embarrassing myself by telling one girl (who I thought was a boy) to go to the boys' locker room and getting into a dispute with her, the 8th graders were ready to sit down and stay up all night.

But anyway, the sleep attire chosen for this lovely get together was then put on a fashion walkway.

No, seriously. Each group voted for three people from their group to get up and do a 'walkway' type show to everyone else in the center of the gym. Three kids and two chaperons.

Nikki was wearing something that I was afraid if she sneezed (or breathed too deeply) would leave her embarrassed. Really who wore that to a _middle_ school imprisonment party? But then Miss Reese came sashaying out wearing almost the identical thing (only in a larger size, but I wouldn't tell her that-I didn't need to flunk Home Ec.).

Oh, as for my sleepwear? I wore my lovely Stitch sleeping pants Jean gave me and I had (aren't I cruel?) _his_ shirt on. I think I might have 'accidentally' grabbed it from the laundry (but I could have done it on purpose) because I might have felt annoyed knowing his _interest_ was going to be at this thing. His face was priceless when I came lumbering out (dragging two of the girls with me who had gotten into a toothpaste war-which the remnants of the war could be found in their hair) in this get up _his_ mouth slackened and eyes enlarged.

I smirked, his mouth snapped shut and his eyes going straight for the girl drooling over him.

Throwing myself ungracefully on the ground next to the, heh, simpler girl who still didn't have her name tag on right, I about gagged when I heard: "Vote for Mr. Drake, I want to see him strut!" followed by a chorus of giggles and 'mm-hmms'.

None of them came from me! I didn't even think like that!

When the 'show' was over they settled back into the groups and the next fun thing was pulled out. We had to sit in a circle (Indian style) and held the people's hands around us. As luck would have it, I got to sit between _him_ and his little 'interest'.

"Now, the object of _this_ 'game'." Alexis rolled her eyes and my stomach decided to become a black hole and suck out my breath. "Is to look at those around you and take turns saying something nice about that person."

Oh great, group therapy.

By the time I heard, "Okay, Kookie, your turn." I just got 'complemented' by _his_ girl that I had nice hair. I guessed I did if you liked the black and shaggy look. "First say something to her, and then to him."

"Uh," I had to think of something and quick. Quick was not in my action listings. I stared blankly at her, 'thanks for taking _my_ guy away, gee I really like that about you'? No, _he_ was never _technically_ my guy, and _he_ ran to her. I think, I wasn't sure anymore. My understanding of this whole situation was still kinda fuzzy. "You have a real talent-at-with, uh, making friends?"

She smiled at me and I felt sick and numb at the same time. I was just waiting for Barney to pop up and start singing that dumb 'I love you' song.

I turned to him, "_You_," are an insensitive, arrogant, womanizing jerk who didn't deserve to even hold my hand-

And then he lightly squeezed it and I felt my resentment ebb.

"You-," nice smile? Nice eyes? Nice laugh? Can make me laugh like no one else (even if it was at myself)? Nice behind (according to my Grandmother's observations, not my own!)? I felt a smile crack my face, "have the most impressive cowlick I have ever seen."

The group busted out laughing and I felt some of my uneasiness at having him looking at me so intently wash away. Without waiting for the girls to stop their giggling he quickly said, "And you have the most incredible green eyes I have ever looked into." The last two words were spoken quietly and I felt a blush creep across my face.

"Isn't he a sweetheart?" his girl whispered into my ear when he turned to compliment one of the other girls on something. There was no guessing that in her voice was a strong _warning_ that said 'hands-off'.

Where's the nightmare? Try to see this through a hurt teenage girl's eyes. I was holding hands with both _him_, the guy I thought sort of cared for me and my replacement who he undoubtly liked.

Worse yet, it wasn't even my fault that our rel-whatever was fell through! He got jealous over Chris! _Chris_ who was growing a mutant population of dust bunnies under his bed. Chris! Who threw himself on his bed, and even _bounced_ when he tried to get comfortable (I spent a _very_ long time under that guy's bed!). I turned my attention to the one sitting across from me and glared at the girl, she paled.

Whoops.

* * *

I was going to pick up the coke machine and ram it through the door.

If it hadn't been bolted down to the floor.

It ate my money! I knew that we had all food and drinks supplied to us thanks to the school, but I couldn't stomach any more Hawaiian Punch or Graham crackers. I wanted Coke! I wanted chocolate! I wanted _real_ junk food! But the dumb machine ate my money!

So I did the pure outraged human thing, I kicked it, shook it, and called it every name in the book. My book was PG-13 rated.

The mocking machine was on the hallway on the side of the gym, so that's how I could get to it without breaking the rules of the lock in.

I banged my head on its glass surface and wondered if Jean would be willing to break the dumb thing for me. I heard the double doors leading to the gym open and then click shut (loudly).

"They're about to start the next event."

It was _him_. I felt my face start to get hot. I could be big and brave in front of people, but alone still made me nervous; even though he made it quite clear he wanted _nothing_ from me!

"Uh, thanks?"

"That's a nice shirt you got on there."

Oh man, time to lie. "It belonged to this jealous thick headed guy I used to think I knew."

"I guess I," sweet smile, "…_he_ deserved that."

"We better get back." I tipped my nose in the air as I walked past him, "Wouldn't want your little lady to worry." I put my hands on the rods which opened the door-

Or at least that was what they were _supposed_ to do.

I tried the door again, this time with a little more strength. Feeling really dumb I went to the other door and tried it.

Both were locked.

This was not good.

"Something the matter?"

"Uh, I don't know-yet." I looked sheepishly at him and he even tried the doors but came to the same conclusion. "We're locked in—or out."

I was in a not okay attitude at this time so I shot something out of my mouth, "What, you think I would lie about the door being locked while you were in here with me?"

Something, I want to say hurt, made a quick jog across his face before being replaced by annoyance.

"I would never think you'd be smart enough to think of that."

CPR! I think he just sucked the air out of me.

I sighed, "Maybe if we-"

Then came the most obnoxious noise in the world, 'We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together' was blasting throughout the gym so loud it shook the doors. Ah dang, there went my idea of banging on the doors.

"Oh yeah, did I forget to tell you?" _he_ smirked as I gave him a cold look over my shoulder, "Karaoke is starting."

"They'll never hear us with the music that loud." I huffed, wanting to scream in frustration. Sliding down the wall next to the wicked vending machines I leaned my head back. What kind of cruel fate was this that I got stuck with _him_ for who knew how long?

A few weeks ago, I would have _loved_ this turn of events but I was being stubborn about making up. It didn't help that he was also probably making out with a new girl now.

He followed my example and slumped down across from me and in front of the doors, "Can't you just use your powers?"

I rolled my eyes, "And how are we going to explain how _locked_ doors got dented by just opening them?" He gave me a tired look, this was only getting worse. It was late and both of us were starting to feel the weariness from not sleeping. "What about your powers?"

"Even harder to explain."

I sighed, and the music kept blasting on.

* * *

Around the time someone was doing a horrible rendition of 'I Will Always Love You' _he_and I made our way to the furthest part of the hall. The music was loud and the hall carried a very irritating echo.

"You probably hate my guts." I guess he couldn't stand the silence (as much as screeching singers allowed there to be silence).

I looked over at him. "I don't hate you." I replied flatly, disheartened.

"Then you strongly _dislike_ my guts?"

"No." I gave him n warm, fake smile. "I 'strongly dislike' your entire person."

_He_ sighed and smiled at the same time.

"Good ole Kookie humor." He was lying stretched out on the floor and I thought he'd give up trying to talk to me, _wrong_. "It's been a month; can't we just forget what happened?"

For some unknown reason, that stung. I didn't mean like bee sting, more like a thousand paper cuts in the same spot until it hit bone type stung.

"I'm trying, but you keep pulling stunts like you did earlier."

He suddenly became the poster boy for innocence. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did! And in front of your own girlfriend!"

He snorted and folded his arms under his head, some part of my mind prayed he put on deodorant the hall already smelled funny. "It was part of the game. I was supposed to compliment you, and I did."

"You were _flirting_!"

"Uh-huh, and why, when I have a girl who hangs on my every word," this time I made a noise of disgust and disbelief, "would I want one who always fights, insults, and teases me?"

"I thought you liked a challenge," I replied weakly, "Guess you just don't have the endurance for it."

He didn't respond at first. He turned his face toward me, and in a serious voice finally stated, "She's _not _my girlfriend."

* * *

"It's about time!" _he_ said as we were finally let out of the hall around one in the morning.

D-M didn't look as shy as she was trying to, "Sorry." After _he_ had gone in the direction of our group, D-M snatched me away. "So?"

"So?" I asked, yawning rudely in her face.

"Did you two work it out? You've been pretty down in the mouth since hell week…" She drawled off. "So Ah thought locking you two together would help."

My mind clicked two or three times before it hit me, "Huh? _You_ locked us together on _purpose_?"

She scoffed. "Oh come on, like you really missed anything. Just a bunch of kids bouncing around screaming."

She was lucky I wasn't leader anymore; I would severely put her through the 'ringer'.

Imagine! Her having the nerve to mettle in my non-existent love life!

Er, never mind, I just shot myself down like a fat turkey before Thanksgiving.

After mentally making a note to destroy D-M's love life as soon as a chance made itself available, she had already done it!

Chris had switched places with _his_ (ya know, _his-_his, not Chris') girl but non-girlfriend and was not too happy with teenager girls in general. Apparently they had a fight, must be a bug going around.

* * *

"This is the last hour of the lock in, and pretty soon you'll be able to go home and sleep." I blinked heavily. My mind was on one planet while my brain-uh, I mean my body was on earth (but even that's questionable). I was _so_ tired. "And for out last activity, we are going to hand out awards."

So we all got papers and pens and started to write down who would be most likely or most un-likely to do whatever it is that we thought. By this time I didn't really care (yes, I sorta did at the beginning) and just marked off various people as whatever in the first empty slot.

"Okay, now, let's tally these up." Alexis must have some pep pills somewhere. As she sat down with two others from the 'heads' of our group, I yawned.

"I know what you mean," _he_ said covering up his own yawn with the back of his hand. "I'm glad we won't have to do this again, all this estrogen is starting to make me go crazy."

Stacey gave a short laugh.

"Like you have real big problems with your reaction to the girls." She could 'see' what they were 'feeling' with their hormones, so I felt either shocked or triumphant when the words came with a knowing smile, "Unless you count black wings beside you, you can't seem to keep yourself from noticing her, hm?"

My jaw did not drop; it drew into a happy grin.

By this time Alexis began to announce what everyone 'won', mine was "Most likely to punch someone for calling her fat". Wasn't that a certificate you wanted to frame?

* * *

It was the middle of the week (okay Thursday, stop getting technical!) when I was sitting dumbfounded in front of the computer I had been writing a report on for English (pure of b.s.).

So I stood, dumbfounded in front of a boy I thought I knew-at least partially.

"C-could you repeat that?"

He sighed heavily, "It's not like I mean it!" He threw his hands up in the air, "Just answer yes or no?"

I blinked in reply.

He glared at me; hey he was lucky I could still blink!

Chris shot me another annoyed glare, "Would. You. Go. To. Prom. With. Me."

I blinked again.

He muttered under his breath, "please?"

I blinked.


	57. Like?

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 057**

* * *

"Let me go you bloody twits!" I cringed as I saw the new girl kick wildly as Mr. Bishop and Jean moved her down the hall. It was a week and a half after the 'lock-in' and I had gotten used to getting hugged in the hall by some of the girls from it.

"Who's that?"

Scott sighed, "A renegade mutant we located, she should be grateful we got to her before the authorities did."

Yeah, right.

"I don' wan' to be here! Just sod off!" Well she was definitely wasn't from around here. After they shoved her into this circle thingie on the floor, Mr. Bishop pressed some buttons on a keypad and a bright blue light swallowed her up. She banged, kicked, cussed and threatened from that cylinder. Apparently she couldn't get out of it.

"It's an inhibitor," Scott explained as if he read my mind. "It'll prevent her from hurting herself and others while the Professor works with her." He turned to go, and I followed him. It was my turn to play twenty questions.

"Who is she?"

Da-Sco-okay, he couldn't read my thoughts so I'd say it just once; dad gave me a funny look.

"We don't know and she isn't in any mood to answer our questions."

"Where'd she come from?"

"Why are you so inquisitive all of a sudden?" Scott (I told you it was only going to call him that _other_ name _once_) gave me a lopsided smile.

"Well, gee, I wonder. You all go away for two days and then bring a Brit chick in here yallowing like an alley cat and expect me not to be a little bit curious?"

"Take it up with Adrian; he'll be getting fully briefed on the girl." I was not going to get mad, I was not going to get angry, and I was _not_ going to get _jealous!_ "She's going to be your new teammate as soon as she is stabilized."

For once since this switching of leadership took place, I was _thrilled_ I wasn't going to be the one who had to 'bond' with that girl. It's the _least_ of what Adrian truly deserved.

* * *

A day later, Miss _Ororo_ (I was still flipping over getting her name right!) and I were 'cruising' down the main street in town. It was so true; she turned out to be an excellent teacher. She even finally buckled and let me get an Icee at the local gas station. When we were leaving, who else but the little human Alexis ran up to me.

"Hey, girl!" I sighed, she smiled at me, "What are you up to?"

"Driving lessons," I said nodding to the car. Miss Ororo was sitting in the passenger seat fixing her hair in the mirror.

"Yeah, I guess that's obvious." She was referring to the big yellow signs on the side of the car that screamed out _Warning_! _Dual control. Student Driver _ thanks to Mr. Drake. He 'borrowed' them from the gym department. "Who's the sister with you?"

"Uh, you mean Miss Ororo?"

"Wow, cool name," Alexis gushed, "Can I ride around with you? I've seen this Aurora lady before around town and she always looked _so_ cool."

I felt my blood sink to my feet. "I guess I could ask her."

Well, _nartually_ Miss Ororo didn't mind. So pretty soon it was me, Miss Ororo and Alexis going down the road. I was so nervous with my friend in the car I was making dumb mistakes all the time.

About an hour went by and I finally had enough, Miss Ororo got behind the wheel and drove Alexis home (who never lacked in words, might I add).

This became routine for two days, until Miss Ororo said I would have to get a replacement driving teacher, her team was being called out to the field somewhere in France.

I was stuck.

But not to fear! Just like always in my life someone _else_ took the lead and decided to answer the questions pertaining to my life. I was told to just show up at the usual time and place (the garage at four) and see.

What I saw was _him_ leaning on the car like he was something hot. Yeah right! (Okay, so with the whole three buttons unbuttoned and part of his chest showing he was kinda cute and distracting).

"What are you doing here?" Dumb question, yes I know.

"I'm here to endanger the world by teaching you how to drive."

"Your confidence, it really touches my heart."

"You have one?" I bristled and felt my eyes prick with tears. He instantly showed regret, "Sorry Kerry, just a reflex."

"So if I hit you, can I just blame it on reflexes?" I got into the car and slammed the driver's car door. He got in a moment later. Drumming my fingers I sighed and turned toward him. "Okay, can we forget about, well, the 'whatever'? I don't want to fight with you all of time."

I missed my friend.

He gave me _that_ smile again (I wonder if his girl friend who happened to be majorly crushing on him thought he had a gorgeous smile?), "I think I can handle that."

So to town we went, I was about sweating bullets because I was so freaked out that someone (namely his girl or one of the people she was buddies with) would see us and then I'd be busted. I'd probably get a bad reputation about being a, uh, 'loose' girl.

Which wasn't true!

I headed straight for Alexis' house, and then I remembered.

"Oh, no," I wailed.

"What? You're doing fine." He gave me a curious glance.

"I pick up Alexis everyday! Miss Ororo said it was to get me used to having people my age in the car with me!" I banged my head on the steering wheel. "I didn't call and cancel."

"That's okay, see?" I gave him a side long glance. Then I snapped up in my seat and gaped at him. "What? Too ugly?"

"You-you're using an image inducer?"

"Naturally, I'd hate for my-for her-" He didn't quite know what to say, so I said it for him.

"You're interest?"

Sheepish, cute grin (even with the image inducer on), "Yeah. Jealous isn't nice."

Bit my tongue, lip, cheek and anything else from gripping at him. When I made it to Alexis' house, I honked my horn and she came running out, paused and slowly made her way into the backseat.

"Who's this?" She asked staring at _his_ face as though she'd never seen a guy before.

"Uh, this is Jack." Like you don't _know_ Jack. Then a grin spread across my face, "Jack Little."

Apparently he caught my insult, even though I didn't know. "Thanks." 'Jack' muttered, "And you are?"

"Alexis Mickle." She smiled and then turned attention to me. "Where's Ororo?"

"Uh, out of town." That pacified my curious friend as the driving lesson started.

She studied him for a few seconds, "You seem very familiar."

Jack laughed nervously, "I get that a lot."

It was half an hour later before we stopped at a convenience store and 'Jack' went in to buy some 'treats'.

"You _like_ him don't you?" My Icee suddenly burned in the back of my throat. Alexis gave me that 'I know you' look in the rearview.

"Uh, who?"

"Don't even play like that, girl!" I was really beginning to wonder if she knew my name or not! "You like that Jack guy, I got to admit, he's okay." Alexis poked me in the shoulder (she didn't hit my wing, it was really odd about how I had to shove them to the side and stuff) "You got it for him _bad_."

"Got for _him_?" I laughed, "_Please_! He has a girl friend, and has absolutely _no_ interest in me."

"Liar."

"W-what makes you say that?" I demanded, what on earth was taking so freaking _long_ in the store?

She gave me a laugh, "Oh come on! Do you think I'm dumb? You've been keeping your eyes more on _him_ than on the road." I opened my mouth to protest, "And don't you deny it!" I shut my mouth. "This Jack guy's been watching you _just_ as hard."

"It's not like that," I sighed, "At least not now."

She crawled between the two front seats. "So I was right?" Alexis smiled like a fattened cat, "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, what _had_ been going on between you two?"

Dang, she was good.

"Nothing much, I mean I thought he liked me and even _kissed_ me." She made a happy noise and said something about 'so sweet' but I just continued, "Then he got jealous for dumb reason and he-well, I guess forgot about me and went running to some other girl."

"You thought he liked you?" I nodded (what was he _doing_ in that store? Robbing it?) "But—do _you_ like _him?_"

"Uh," I started but then finally I saw 'Jack' emerge from the store carrying two bags of chips and coke bottles. "I'm pleading the fifth."

Alexis sat back with a pout. "Fine, girl, but you _are_ going to tell me later. 'Cause I know how to ask on the third."

Yeah sure, just as soon as I figure out what she was talking about.

* * *

I knew everyone was dying to know what I told Chris after that really weird question. The truth was all I did was stand in front of him like an idiot and then, throwing up his hands, said to give him my answer later.

I stood there for five minutes.

And then I tore off to D-M's room.

She said, quite plainly, she was taking Adam to the prom. Why? Because Chris waited too long to ask her. I was kind of floored, the prom wasn't until _April_ and it was just now in the middle of February. D-M asked if she knew who Chris asked, and in a small voice I answered me.

"It's your dream come true!" She laughed, like a mad woman who you shouldn't hang around any longer than usual. "Ah hope y'all have fun." When the accent came out _that_ thick, it's time to book a one way ticket to Maui.

Then I went to Chris' room. I had to ask him why the sudden bust up with his 'leading lady'.

"She got something up her butt and dumped me." He sat like big chief in front of me, arms crossed and everything. "Don't ask me _why_, she just came up to me during the lock in and said 'we're through' like I even recognized we started!"

"But you liked her, right?" Chris glared at me. "I'll take that as a 'yes' but also as a 'don't you breathe a word of it'."

"Good choice." I got up to leave, "Have you made up your mind?"

"I have to go talk to one other person, I'll tell you then."

"Kookie, wait." I turned; he seemed to fight for the words. "Look, I know we don't get along and that's mainly because you're such a stuck up Scott drone."

"Thank you, you waste of mutant potential," I shot back.

He grumbled, "What I was going to say is forgetting that fact, maybe we could help each other at this dumb prom."

I cocked an eyebrow and asked for him to continue.

"You don't really want to go with me _but_," Dang, he got that word in before I could talk! "The people we _do_ want to go with ditched us for another, so why not do our best to make them jealous and get them back?"

I did my wordless blinking again.

"Just think about it."

* * *

I went to go talk to _someone_but I couldn't figure out whom. If I went to talk to Jean she'd tell me to go without a date or better yet, not to go at all! Scott was out of the question, Storm and her team (Mr. Bishop, Mr. Logan, Sam, Stacey, Miss Rogue, and Mr. Remy) were still out of town so I had to rack my brain to come up with an answer.

The only people I come up with were a) Paige, b) Dr. Hank, c) Professor, or d) Mr. Warren. Of course there _was_ Stitch, but for once I actually needed to talk to someone who would talk back.

If Stacey was here I could ask her to just 'scan' me or whatever she does and to tell me if I _really_ liked him, yes or no. Jean was so out of the question for something like that, even if it was in the mind. So back to my choices for counselor, I just busted out laughing at the idea of bringing my miniscule love life problems to the Professor. What would he say? 'You must work toward peace' or something cliché that the Professor likes to spout out like the modern day Shakespeare.

Paige? Paige was-I didn't know her that well. I knew she was a tree hugger and would probably fuss at me for having Stitch who was made out of non-recyclable materials or something weird like that.

Mr. Warren would probably get weird and say that I needed to go talk to one of the women.

That left Dr. Hank. I had never really talk-talked to him since-well, all of our conversations had to do with body functions and stuff so I guessed a real conversation was in order. He was always easy to find, if Dr. Hank wasn't raiding the 'fridge for last night's leftovers, he was in his lab playing doctor (which he was a doctor, so I guess he's not playing just being his normal questionable self).

I walked past the containment units where the fussy Brit girl was being held, she was quiet so I peeked in. Sitting crossed legged and looking rather bored with life in general on the floor she didn't notice me at first, but then my feathers ruffled.

"Wot you want?" She snapped. "Come to tell me wot a _won_-der-ful place this is, too?" Man, her sarcasm was almost as thick as her accent. When I didn't answer, her eyes narrowed. "Then sod off."

"What's your name?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Mary bleedin' Poppins." I couldn't help but give her a small laugh, maybe it was because I was so nervous about talking to Dr. Hank, I dunno. But I turned to go and I heard her say something.

"Huh?"

"My name's Julie. You're the firs' Yank to laugh at me." I was going to correct her and say 'with you' but I just shrugged it off.

"Why! Miss Summers! I see you have been able to strangle out a name from our new guest!" Dr. Hank came bounding in out of nowhere. "But I must advise you, my young friend, not to get too close to the dearly enchanting girl, or her powers might attack you."

I frowned.

"Thanks." I guess. "Dr. Hank, can I talk to you?" I heard this 'Julie' girl cry out in protest to being talked about like a 'bloody lab rat wi' two legs'. He brought me back to his lab and toyed with some blue stuff (looked almost like the stuff me and Bobby-Jerk broke last year-I still say it was all _Bobby's_ fault).

"What is it you wanted to converse with me about, hopefully it is not yet another ploy of yours to obtain a processed sugar laden sweet from the adorable blue doctor before you." So this was where Adam was picking it up from.

"Uh, no, actually. I-" I thought of a way to make me sound less like a little girl with a crush (I think) and more like a teenager (with a crush). "I have a hypothetical question for you."

"Oh?"

That had to be the shortest question he _ever_ asked me.

"Yeah, okay, well let's say-_hypothetically_ that I, uh, a _friend_ had this problem with this person. It's not like a fight kind of problem, more of the-" mad blush now showing on Kookie's face, "uhm, 'liking' of this person?" I heard him try to hide a chuckle. "Anyway so for about six months or so this _boy _kept leading this girl on, but never made anything permanent. I'm not talking like 'forever' but something like 'for now'. Like you know, normal dating stuff-" My face was on fire, I was so thankful he kept his back turned to me.

"So anyways this friend, the girl is innocently talking to another guy. The _boy_ gets jealous and, uh, breaks up with her?" Even though we were never _technically_ 'going out' in the first place. "Now the girl doesn't know if she wants to pretend to like him still, or ignore him, or whatever…I don't make much sense do I?"

He didn't attempt to cover up his laughter this time.

"My dear Miss Summers, I am shocked you'd come and talk to me about such things, but I will offer my professional advice." _Please_ let it be in simple terms. "It seems to me that you do, indeed, care for this 'boy' or you would not get so green yourself. And he, I believe, is merely trying to hurt you because he is absurdly childish at times. Such as his childish barbs at the 'lock-in'?"

"Yeah, I guess-_waitasecond_! How'd you know about that?"

Now came a full laugh complete with amused grin.

"Why, my little apprentices tell me much of the gossip of the house. And although it is not popular knowledge, Daisy did find it amusing to fill me in on your particular problem. Though, I might add for the reassurance of your mind, I do not know who the young fellow is that has seemed to infatuate you."

Remember my homicide list? Yeah, well, Daisy just got added to it!

"So, do you know that Chris asked me to the prom? For revenge?" Chris didn't say it in quite those words, but it was what he meant. 'Cause it wasn't like we _liked_ each other or anything, we were just a means to an end.

"Oh my, yes. But of course Kookie, revenge is a dish best served with Mary-Kay cosmetics and tuxedos."

* * *

"And _where_ do you think _you're_ going?" I heard Chris ask in his here-comes-trouble voice.

"Out, you know, on a _date_," Adrian boosted. And he seemed like such a nice and shy guy when I first met him. I just shrugged it off, and then a knock on my door shrugged it back on.

"It's open."

Adrian popped his head in, "Hey, Kookie, I'm going to town for a while, you're in charge." He was about to leave when he heard me say something so back in his head came (reminded me of a cuckoo clock bird). "You say something?"

"Yeah, I said something, like I don't want to be left in charge. It's your job to babysit us when the big wigs are gone." I crossed my arms and watched him from my computer chair.

"Oh come _on,_ Kookie! It's not like anything big ever happens around here anyway when they're all gone." I rolled my eyes. "Besides, I want to go see Nikki-Jo before she dumps me!"

Like I was supposed to care?

"Not going to do it."

"Fine then, I'll leave _Daisy_ in charge and you can suffer for it." I gritted my teeth and put myself _right_ up in his face.

"Get it through your _head_, Corbo. I am _not_ in charge, _you_ are, and this isn't some dumb free ride on a power kick rollercoaster that you can inhale only when you want your ego to grow. It's a responsibility, _they_ trusted you," by this time I was poking him in the chest with my index finger, "and you have to do it!"

"Or what?" He asked icily, "Are they going to fire me like they did you?" Okay, that was uncalled for. "Face it, _Summers_, you're just jealous because _daddy_ doesn't need to spend any more time with you." Adrian glared at me for a good ten seconds and then suddenly paled, "I-I didn't mean it, Kookie."

I was starting to tear up, _that_ was why he apologized. He kept trying to say how sorry he was and how he didn't mean it, finally I had enough.

"Shut-up." I snapped. "Just go out with your little girl-floozy and do whatever you dang well please."

Turning, I slammed the door in his face and marched around until I found Stitch were I had flung him after my last driving lesson (in my dirty clothes hamper).

What Adrian said wasn't true! Scott didn't _only_ spend time with me because I was in that leadership class thingie with him, he spent time with because he wanted to—right?

* * *

Later that night, I was down in the kitchen with Adam as he tried (without luck) to explain just how the mind blocking thingamajigs worked. I smiled and nodded the whole time like I understood everything. The only thing I caught was baby words such as 'block' 'the' and 'wicked cool'.

I was making dinner for my team since everyone else wasn't around (including the fearless leader _of_ the X-citers). Being the nice girl I was, or sometimes could be, I only charged everyone one buck per grilled cheese sandwich. Excluding Chris, his I was going to make free, and I told him as much in _front_ of Miss Bloome.

I took out a frying pan, one that weighed more than I did it felt like and put it on the stove top.

Then the lights started to flicker.

I started to groan.

"_Chris_!" I shouted, knowing full well he couldn't hear me.

If he did, this was Chris and he would have ignored me anyways. He might want me to be team leader again, but until then he was going to ignore me at every turn.

"What is he doing?" Adam questioned, obviously upset that his projects kept dying and coming back to life like lightening bugs on the table.

"If I knew, I would tell him where to ram it."

Then the lights blinked wildly for a second, and then the entire room was pitch black.

"That -that-_boy_!" Then I heard something, something that made my blood freeze. "Uh, Adam, how long does it take for the generators to kick on?"

"Uh, about a minute and ten seconds, why?"

"Does it take that long _all_ over the house?"

"'fraid so," then a new sound, a sound of a thick metal door being crushed like a Dr. Pepper can echoed like the scraping of Death's bony feet on cement.

It didn't take a Dr. Hank to come to the conclusion, in fact, I didn't even have time to come to grips with it before me and Adam both heard it.

"Here, birdy birdy. I've got a hunger for some black chicken."

Oh my—

Sabertooth was loose.


	58. Cats and Kittens

**Lucky Me **

**Chapter 058**

* * *

I never knew fear until the moment I heard his voice calling to us from down the hall. Then there was the scraping of long, sharp claws being dragged on the metal of the hallway's wall. It rang so loudly in my ears that it felt as if he was running his claws down my spine.

"Oh man," Adam prayed, quickly jumping to his feet. The backup generators flickered to life, but instead of the normal lights, there was a dull red color filling the room. "Kerry, what do we do?" He asked, as I felt my lunch in my throat.

Every other time, we had been under the safety of the Danger Room, or had had help from those that could _do_ something. Now? Now there was just me, Adam, and—"Chris. Daisy." I muttered.

"Huh?" Adam was practically on top of me, "What about them?"

I shushed him and told him to whisper.

"We need to get to them. Change into your lizard form and we need to get them out of here. They're both on the top floor."

He nodded and began got morph from a normal looking guy to a bulky lizard man. He silently crept to the door.

"What about you?"

I sighed and still gripping my frying pan, and felt my 'natural' skin melt away from me. I heard the flesh hit the floor like paper sliding across the tiles. My wings twittered with nervousness.

"Ready?" I questioned, fear deep in my voice. There was no telling _where_ Sabretooth was by now. There was no more noise coming from the basement area. We silently made our way out of the kitchen, careful that the swinging door didn't make any creaks as it opened and shut. Of course the pounding in my ears would give us away without any problem.

It took all I had _not_ too wet myself. I mean, it would be a little _obvious_ if he had a trail to follow.

"Wait."

I _really_ didn't want to. I just wanted to grab my team and haul feathers. "What?"

"That girl." Oh crap, "She's still down-"

"I'll send her family a nice flower arrangement with my sincerest apologies!" I hissed/whined.

"_Containment unit Alpha has been breached. Starting automatic perimeter lock-down._"

Cere-bellium? Oh heck, what was their fancy computer's name? I didn't have time to think it out as I felt my heart sink impossibly low (like men in China were poking it with a stick asking where it came from). The slamming of thick metal on the window sills, doors and every other possible entrance (meaning exit) broke my heart and sent tears into my eyes. I gripped my frying pan harder.

"Oh, man." Adam grabbed my hand and hauled me half way up the stairs to the first landing. "I can't believe this." He was scared, too; it was almost as if we were absorbing each other's emotions.

"I-I-t-t" I stuttered out, I was _not_ going to cry! I was not!

Then I heard a bone chilling chuckle from the emergency staircase door (at least that's where I guessed it came from). I felt something akin to a sob want to break free from my throat.

When people say fear was like having ice and lead shoot through your blood, they hadn't felt fear. I felt as a heavy as Mr. Logan's bones when I heard claws scrape against the walls again.

I focused on nothing but the scrapping sound, and the almost glowing golden eyes which slowly came into view. My breath, I couldn't believe I was still breathing. I heard every step he took; Adam was shaking like there was an earth quake underneath his feet instead of wood and carpet.

Then he came into view. Claws twisting, feet dragging, smile with full set of fangs leering and his eyes were set solidly on his victims.

"What'sa matter, birdy? Ain't never seen a real man before?" He snickered at his own sick joke, "And you lizard boy, guess I'm goin' to have a new pair of boots."

I-I-I(my _thoughts_ were stuttering) my breath hitched in my throat and I just _knew_ I was going to hyperventilate. Better than breathing through my neck, but then again my head and neck might by 'separating' soon!

He took one step up, his grin growing. I could only focus on his claws as they flexed and relaxed in a very _not_welcoming way.

"You smell so good covered in fear," he purred, I never thought for a moment that I would live to see the next moment.

Then I screamed.

He lunged at us!

In a breath I stumbled backwards and fell down like a rock on the landing.

Then my life flashed before my eyes...but somewhere in the white light I heard a howl of pain. And-it didn't come from me.

"Come on you idiot!" What was Chris doing in my death tunnel of light? "He won't be knocked out for long!" I blinked (I could _still blink!_) And then looked up at Chris who (besides having white and purple spots all over him from my screwed up vision) looked down at me in perfect health.

I wasn't dead?

"Kerry! Come on, get up!" I heard a groan (my own) then I heard another one from somewhere past me. Being dragged to my feet I saw a slightly sizzled Sabretooth against the front door (which was now covered by a metal sheet thanks to the 'lock down') which stood a good twenty or more feet away from the bottom of the stair case.

"W-what happened?" I croaked out, frying pan still secure in my hand.

"Forget about what _happened_ and worry about what's going to _happen_," Chris grouchily advised; I shook my head trying to think. Even if I wasn't leader, the first thing was still first. Roll Call. "Where's D-M?"

"Here," I heard her croak, "Why is he out?"

"I decided to take him for a walk while Adam changed his litter box." I shot (as said before, defense mechanism. It was either being highly sarcastic, or denying everything. Somehow I think no matter how hard I tried to deny the cat was out I was going to end up dead).

"What do we do?" Adam's voice was shaky like the rest of ours, and for a moment I was going to give the obvious choice of 'getting out' but then something struck me. We couldn't get out without letting that thing out as well.

"Go downstairs." I commanded (sounded more like a plea to me). "Get to the containment units."

"What?" Chris, apparently, found his voice and with the shout the killer twitched with life. Oh crap, we didn't have but maybe a minute more.

"Just. Do. It." I sounded like a Nike commercial.

We got to the bottom of the steps before we heard a _highly_ angry growl/howl being let lose upstairs. Adam automatically slammed and barred the emergency staircase. I knew at least _one_ person wasn't going to like what I had to say next, but it had to be done.

"Adam, there's no other way down here, right?"

He swallowed audibly. "Not that I can think of."

"Good, then you and Kia get to any working containment unit." They went to protest I almost growled at them (as if I wasn't hearing enough of that from the thudding person coming down the steps). When the other two _finally_ left, I looked over at Chris. "You guard the door."

"Okay, I _know_we've had our disagreements in the past but do you really-"

"Save it" I ordered, "If you want to use that tongue of yours in the future, then I suggest that you do as I say. _Now_."

"O-okay."

"Use your electricity to make sure that if he touches that door, he'll be fried again. Everyone else has close contact powers." Chris paled, but nodded his head.

Why the heck was I doing this really, _really_ dumb stuff?

Because there was a mutant floating around here (not technically 'floating') that I had to find to make sure she didn't get blood on the floor. I remembered when Husk nearly passed out when she saw her brother (Sam) with a busted lip dripping on the ground. She was more worried about the blood then about the cut, weird huh?

"Just-_hurry,_" Chris shouted at me as I took off down the way to the _other_ containment units. The 'big bad' cells, and the 'not so bad, but we still don't trust you' cells were in different parts of the subbasement. I sent my team to the 'big bad' cells since they were thicker and better equipped. I could hear the crackling of Chris' powers behind me, mingled with an angry howl. I had to find that mutant girl before Sparks ran out of juice.

"_Hello_!" I screamed, running toward where I saw her last, but no dice. She was gone. "Oh peachy, just what I need a psy—_fire!_"

Bright yellow flames from nowhere seemed to be all around me!

Great, as if the night was complicated enough, let's make the would-be victims _roast_ as well!

Suddenly I was blinded by pure fear. Like reality had grown to the size of a seven foot cat man and bit me in the behind. Dropping to my knees, I started to hyperventilate. My heart dropped, the tears came and all I could see through me scared confusion was- dark yellow flames?

I was on fire?

"Sorry." My heart started to ping-pong between my ears, and fear suddenly seemed to fly away. "Though' you were one of those stuck up gits."

Slowly climbing to my feet, she looked at me funny.

"_You_ did that?"

"Yeah, I'm wot they sired an 'empath'." She shrugged. "I just went on your strongest emotion."

I sighed.

"Come on," (I figured ramming my knuckles down her throat right now would constitute as a 'bad idea' because it meant I would have had to _drag_ her behind to the 'safe' place).

"Why?" Julie sounded suspicious.

"Because if I'm rescuing _you_, you have to _move_. If you stay here, you get to know what shish-ka-bob feels like." I muttered, rubbing my knees.

"Y-you're rescuing me?"

"It's kind of my _job_. If you die, I get the ax." I shrugged. I wasn't _that_ calm, I was actually feeling like I was sinking into the pit of the earth and being burned alive.

"The sentiment's touching..."

"_Anytime now!_" Chris screamed, I grabbed her gloved hand and started to book it to the other containment units.

"Wot's going on?"

"Talk later, run now," I clarified (hey, Scott might have the whole 'explain the situation in ten seconds or less using two hundred words' but this girl was in _training_, meaning it took a lot of hand gestures and a lot of teen slang to clarify). Half way back to Chris I noticed something.

It was deathly quiet. Not a crackle or a curse coming from where I left him.

My throat stuck together and I felt Julie start to whimper as I tightened my grasp on her wrist. If he was joking, I was going to enjoy killing him.

"Something's wrong," I muttered, "He's being too quiet."

"The dead have a tendency to be way." I wanted to scream but instead I was only capable of twisting my head around in every direction trying to find where the purring voice was coming from. "Clever trick, girlie, but you forgot the elevator shaft."

"_Chris_!" Why do people scream other people's names _after_ the fact? Like he was even going to answer. My feet found themselves capable of movement and they moved toward where Chris was supposed to be.

I could only hear the predator laughing somewhere behind us, in the dark. He was playing with us, hunting us, a regular and lethal game of cat and mouse. Julie didn't protest or pull back as I yanked her all around the under belly of the mansion.

"Oh my-"

There was blood and complete silence. No more laughing.

My eyes watered, and my head became foggy.

"C-Chris?" He wasn't moving, wasn't being his annoying little firecracker self. He was barely breathing. B-but he _was_ breathing! I ran and dropped to my knees with no consideration to pain as I slammed down on to them. "Chris!" I shook him and felt what little stomach I had left lurch and twist. Seconds were ticking by and the British girl pointed out that if I wanted to meet him in the afterlife to continue to dirty myself with his blood, if not, hide.

My strength did not fail me as I turned Chris over, and I felt myself grow faint. Three gashes across his chest and abdomen greeted me—I could see muscle-oh gaw. There was very little thought in my head and lunch in my stomach. There was, however, plenty of shaking and weak knees. But despite his appearance and the fear, I was able to lift him up and began the stumbling journey to where the others were.

Wherever Sabretooth was, I was thinking he was enjoying the show. Probably going to make us think we were safe until the last instant-then strike like a tiger in the night.

"Y-you."

"Wot?" Julie asked, her face was even paler than usual.

"Is there any way for you to tell where the other guy is by his emotions?" I had to think, a leader worries, cries, and wets herself _after_ they'd survived. The rest of the team could freak out and lose their mind; it was up to the leader, _me_, to get the others through.

"You don't wan' to know where he is," she whispered back.

"Adam, open the door! Chris is hurt!" I knew it was the Beta cell, we basically had to hurdle over the door our hunter had knocked off its hinges (the Alpha cell). But it wasn't Adam who pulled the door open, Daisy poked her head in and Julie didn't ask any questions as she ran in the room.

"D-did he do that?" D-M quivered as she shut the door again with a sound clunk.

I put Chris down as soft as I could, and I was never so happy to hear him groan and try to gurgle out something.

"Don't say anything, Sparks, I don't want blood on my shirt." Which was _way_ too late because it was already covered in it. Did I have my frying pan? Oh you bet. I wasn't going to let that thing go!

"Where's Adam?"

Daisy started to fidget; she did that when she didn't want to answer something, when she knew I didn't want to _hear_ the answer.

"H-He went to the communication room to try and contact the others." Her voice was low. My temper went flying high. I felt my mutant adapting power work overtime; my wings even were tightening with the need to 'fight' instead of 'flight'.

"Daisy, heal Chris." She hesitated. I couldn't have her second guessing me, not now, not with Chris' life on the line or _ours_ for a _larger_ matter! If one of us didn't pull through, then I failed again. We had to get Adam, but I wasn't going to leave three sheep for the slaughter to try and save someone who might have already met his doom.

Couldn't think like that!

Had to think happy thoughts-later.

"But he's bleeding..."

I gritted my teeth together, "_That's_ why you have to heal him!"

"But the Legacy Virus..."

"Do. It. Or Sabretooth won't have _time_ to kill you." Threatening was much more a Wolverine tactic then a Cyclops-but too bad! I heard a growling chuckle somewhere down the hall. She started to put her hands on him. What had Adam been thinking I didn't know. I couldn't believe he'd be as stupid as to try for the X-Men when they were all clear across the country or somewhere without radios.

"Can't we just give him some cat nip?" Daisy whispered through her tears.

"Is she serious?" Julie looked at me with an unbelievable glance.

"Is he ready?" I completely evaded the question Julie asked for a great reason, the truth might have made her doubt all of us instead of just the group air head.

"A-Almost, this isn't as simple as it looks, he got him through the skin, and I can't make him make blood." She was sweating, and I was wondering. Why the heck didn't that man make his move on us yet? I mean, I wasn't complaining, it just seemed _very_ weird for a serial killer to take his own good time doing whatever it was he was planning to do.

We were in the meat locker ready to be fried for crying out loud!

Maybe he went after Adam-no, no! Not Adam, there was only one way to the control room and it was down this hallway. He wouldn't fly by us and give us a way out just to get to the other boy (unless he had sexist issues about killing females or something).

"We have to move, if you're done or not," so much for 'master plans' and stuff. Because of Adam's need to be heroic we were now forced to take shelter in-oh _duh_!

I felt _completely_ stupid (even _more_ so than when talking to Dr. Hank) all the extra juice automatically went to the Command center (War Room) to protect the content on the computers! I had forgotten (this must have been why Scott pressed for me to take _notes_) and here I thought that one of the containment units would offer more protection! How do I remember to breathe at night? (Yes, I was avoiding reality at all costs, but wouldn't you act the same under the circumstances? Good. I thought so.)

"We can't wait anymore. Is he moveable?" Daisy nodded, oh great, now _she_ was pale. I was always on the receiving end of her hands, I didn't see the aftermath, but I remember after I was shot that she was put in the med. wing as well. Guess it really wiped her out to use her powers in such a way. I poked my head out the door, and just like before, nothing was greeting me.

No laughing, no taunting, _nothing_. I allowed myself a small measure of hope. Maybe the big-kitty went bye-bye and left the little 'pre-trainee-wannabe-X-Men' alone for the night, at least until his real playmates got back.

"Julie, help Daisy. Go out the door and walk to the right."

"Oh to _hell_ with that!" She raised her voice as I once again bent down to take a knocked out Chris in my arms. "I'm not goin' out there first! I'm not that bloody daft. _You_ go and die first."

Oh, she was going to be _another_ joy to work with in the future. If I let her _have_a future.

"I'd do what I say before the only way you get to go to college is as a _cadaver_."

She went to challenge me—and instead of opening her mouth, she grabbed Daisy and hauled her out the open door. Just because she was doing what I said didn't mean she didn't grumble all the way down the hall.

"K-_kerrr_" Chris was trying to talk again, idiot.

"Shut-up, I'm out of Advil," I whispered back and then raised my voice slightly to tell Julie where the room was. He went to say something again when-

_Wham_!

"Julie! _Run_!" I managed to scream before Chris dropped to the floor, there was a clawed hand around my throat and my back was slammed at a rapidly bruising rate into the wall.

He had been waiting for us!

How I maintained bladder control at this point I didn't know. Like a snake, every breath I took, his hand tightened around my throat.

"I know you're probably thinkin', 'why me'?" I made a gurgling noise in the back of my throat; please, I thought, don't let it be blood. "It's nothin' personal; you're just a parting thought to those that think they're better than me." He came closer. He had fangs, very sharp looking fangs. "Nothin' they taught you seems to matter any-"

Then he was gone. Well, actually he was hit very roughly from the side and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath to remember a clang sound and my hand raising.

He turned to me and growled murder.

Then _clang_.

I was shaking so hard that I didn't even realize _I_ was the one who was hitting him-with a frying pan (cast iron frying pan I found out later).

When he reached out and tried to claw me open like he had done Chris, his claws scrapped against the bottom of my pan. "Cute, kid, real cute."

Chris wasn't awake to _'zap'_ him this time when the mad man launched toward me.

Just my frying pan and me to rely on.

Somehow, in the two seconds I had to think, the odds did _not_ seem to be in my favor.

Then the _clang_ echoed as I closed my eyes (dumb, but this was me).

I was dead; I just knew I was dead.

But it wasn't _me_ groaning. When I cracked my eye open, I noticed I must have moved because I was half bent to the side with two-handed death grip on the frying pan and a big cat at my feet. Shaking, I brought my pan to my face to inspect it, and then I checked out the wall. _Both_ had heavy dents. I didn't question my sudden luck as I grabbed Chris and (fighting back the tears) made my way to the control room.

Once the door slammed shut, Chris was sitting down in one of the bolted down swivel chairs, and my shaking was somewhat subsiding-I felt the irresistible need to burst out into a chorus of 'Whose Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?' This was _after_ the doors were secured, D-M bear hugged both me and the injured party, I glared at Adam (yelling was forgotten because I was afraid I would sound like Minnie Mouse on helium).

A few more minutes ticked by and once I was sure my voice wasn't going to make dog ears hurt, "Did you get into contact with them?"

Adam looked at me funny. "I can't figure out how to use this thing."

I survived all this, became a lethal Kookie armed with a kitchen utensil to bite it because Adam had a stupid streak in him after all? No. Way.

"Move, I can do it."

"Where is _he_?" D-M asked, attached to Julie who was trying to pry the country girl off her arm.

Leaders cried _later_. Leaders were human _later_. Leaders never showed weakness. Leaders never should install false hopes.

"Out there somewhere." I checked the clock before sitting down in front of the communicator. It had been barely half an hour. About three hours since Adrian, our fearless and _missing_ leader, left. I just hoped the jerk didn't come home any time soon. I would _despise _for him to be a martyr. They'd probably blame me and erect a statue in his honor.

I typed in the code keys that contacted the Blackbird (they didn't make anything easy around here) and before long Gambit's face appeared on the television screen in front of us (okay, so it was a monitor).

"What's wrong? De lot of you look worse for wear." He was trying to be funny, nobody was laughing.

"Sabretooth is loose." His eyes got huge, and his mouth went slack. "We're alone." Cyclops was called for and I felt my resolve on _not_ crying slowly fading when my 'father figure' appeared on screen (practically knocking Gambit out of the way). "Do the words 'help us' come to mind?" Bad time for humor, bad, _bad_ time!

"Blyt, where is everyone? Are they all accounted for? Where are you located now?"

Well _dug_. It's not like I had a communication bay in _my_ room!

"They're all here and accounted for. We're in the War Room." When he asked where the escaped convict was, my first answer that came to mind, went out of my mouth, "_Not_ in the War room."

"We're on our way."

* * *

Sabretooth never made another try for us. I knew he had woken up not too much later after I knocked him out. Julie said she couldn't 'feel' him anywhere and that next time to tell her what's going on before she learned that some people weren't worth saving. That started a huge fight between D-M and Julie. Adam was stalk still in the corner of the room.

I was tending to Chris. D-M had patched him up until there was nothing but pink, angry scars, but he was still so pale. The blood loss was great, I knew, and after about another half an hour he started muttering 'crazy talk' to me.

He could barely talk above a whisper, so I knew no one else could hear him (unless the Julie chick had hyper-sensitive hearing she neglected to mention), "Y-you know why I—say all those things—about you, K-k-k..."

"Because you have to be mean and hateful to someone and you pulled my name out of a hat?" I gave a pathetic attempt at a smile, which he tried to return.

"No, it's b-because I l-like you," Huh? "And I did-n't want to-and I di'n't wan' him to-either."

"You really have lost a lot of blood," I laughed at him and he passed out again. For some reason I felt slightly uneasy to be alone with this boy any longer.

* * *

When, about forty nine minutes following the call to the Blackbird, the actual spandex wearing X-men showed up, I had never been so happy in my life. Julie ground out that she was _not_ going back into the containment units because there was nothing _wrong_ with her. D-M quickly disagreed and the fight started and was shut off in a matter of minutes.

I was thinking it had something to do with a threat of blowing someone up, but I couldn't be sure.

Dr. Hank took one look at Bradley and told me to bring him to be fixed up in good old med. wing.

By this time Chris was a bit more lucid, but not much. I helped him up, even though my arms were aching. I figured it was nothing to having your chest ripped in three or four places by massive claws. He grunted as he slowly went from sitting to standing; let me tell you, super strength came in handy.

"Are you okay?"

He shot me a look that made my I.Q. slump.

"Yeah," he coughed. "W-What's some _slashes_ across the c-chest?"

I gave a tired smile, "At least you have _character_ now with your 'battle scars'."

Chris rolled his eyes as he swayed on his feet for a moment; I put my arm around his waist told him not to get any ideas as I helped him to the med. wing. Half way there, he gave me a hard as nails glare and tone of voice (two for one sale?), "This better get a 'yes' out of you for prom."

* * *

I couldn't sleep!

Gee, I wondered why?

Every time I closed my eyes I was transported back into the dark, red colored halls with a cat hunting me. I was scared! After the adrenaline wore off, the others were back in their rooms and Chris was hooked up to blood, I went to bed.

And I couldn't turn off the light! I was afraid that the murderer was lingering around in the corners waiting for me to go to sleep to follow through with his promises. Wolverine and Bishop hunted and then checked everywhere but didn't find the man; they said he was long gone.

I didn't believe them.

So, in order to prevent myself from going nuts, I decided to go and hunt someone who every other time when I felt lousy, scared, or on the brink of pulling off all my feathers and ramming them in certain people's behinds and ears was comforting.

Yup, I went to _him_.

With the tiredness and reality of what really did happen and _could_ have happen sinking in quickly, I felt incredibly nervous. I knew, despite what ever happened between us, _he_ and I were friends. And friends were supposed to rub out the emotional kinks for each other, right? With a deep breath, I held up my hand and felt my nerves chase away. Dang it!

I lowered my arm and sighed, I had to leave. I turned around-

"Hey." And there _he_was, with a glass in hand, his hair tasseled, and a small smile on his lips.

He looked so tempting to me at this point. No fronts, just _him_ being _him_.

In the middle of the night...okay, so I should really get back to the action instead of the drooling (old habits die hard, huh?).

"H-hi"

He raised an eyebrow which added to the slightly confused expression on his face. I guess he wasn't expecting me to greet him? What was I rude or something? Was I avoiding thinking or talking to him? Heck yay!

"What's wrong?" he glanced up and down the hall, "Before you answer, maybe we should go inside. _Both_ of you." He remarked toward Stitch and myself. I was thinking of having my fuzzy blue alien plush surgically attached to my chest. It would lead to having a very strange coffin whenever I was buried, not that the wings wouldn't make it strange enough.

Once the door was shut and locked, I felt the nervousness start to come its own life force in me. I wondered briefly if Julie had anything to do with this. He flicked on his light, placed the glass on his nightstand, and plopped down on his bed. Then he just stared at me.

As if not being embarrassed and anxious wasn't punishment already! Now I was getting self-conscious! "Uh, W-what are you doing up so late?"

He shrugged.

"Getting a drink. What were you doing outside my bedroom door?"

"Admiring the woodwork?" I smiled impishly. He gave me a 'yeah, right' face and waited for me to explain. I felt all the night's emotions come slamming into me like an eighteen-wheeler. Tears started to prick in my eyes, I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing left it, before I could stop myself I was already southward bound. I didn't care if I hit my knees, though I never did, he was there preventing me from it by collecting me in a warm, safe embrace.

I had come so close to _dying_! To being _ripped_ to _shreds_! Chris almost _died_! _Would_ have died! We could have all _died_! Oh my-I couldn't even think of anything else! Dead! D-E-A-D! I was sobbing and like every other time that mattered, he was there for me.

Who knows how long I was a muttering, crying mess of an emotional wreck. He never let me go, holding me tightly and the strength in his arms and the soothing words he murmured made me feel protected and deeply cared for.

I didn't even realize he had somehow gotten me over to his bed until I stopped crying long enough to look up from his shoulder where I had my buried my face in the curve of his neck. Of course, the first thing I noticed was that somewhere between slumping to the ground and grabbing his shirt I had dropped Stitch.

"S-stitch," I reached out toward my fuzzy blue buddy (I wondered if Dr. Hank would be amused by my 'buddy').

He laughed and got up to fetch Stitch, but when he came back to the bed he didn't sit beside me. He knelt in front of me, and then, just like he was single and I was the one he was after, he put his hand over mine. Making eye contact (I was sure I looked just so appealing with red puffy eyes and a blotchy face, I'd seen my face after I'd cried-I look like an angry Pillsbury Dough-girl) with his.

I wondered why we fought but, I— he had a potential girlfriend. I couldn't get over the fact.

"I should leave."

His eyebrows came together then he rolled his eyes, "Oh sure, use me as a human Kleenex and then run back to your room." He wasn't upset (completely). Just going out on a limb and trying to get me from the dark thoughts of how close I came to playing chess with the Grim Reaper.

I didn't even know _how_ to play chess.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you..." I came to a screeching halt in my thoughts of board games and the skeleton playmates.

"You couldn't have known," I replied, my voice giving away that I was exhausted. "I just never had been through anything like that. All the danger room exercises-we all knew we'd be _safe_. We'd all walk away, maybe a few more scratches, but _alive_and whole." I shuttered, "But this was-this was-"

"Life or death," He replied, flat and cold. "I know."

I got up to leave, but before I could make it to my feet, he was on his and pushing me back on his bed (not like _that_!).

"I don't think so. You're just going to sit up all night blowing your nose on this guy," he said dropping Stitch in my lap, "Until he's green. And that's just disgusting." He gave me one of the old smiles that I loved.

I laughed nervously (the only thing I didn't cry out) and gave him a weak smile, "Fine."

After instructions to get under the covers and get comfortable I shrugged and did as he said. Jean was going to _kill _me or him, perhaps _both_. But, right now? Screw her. She was used to this, I wasn't. She had Da-_Scott_ (I really had to _stop_ that) to run to, I had Stitch and _him_. _He_ was comforting; Stitch was—comfortable (when used as a pillow)?

The lights went out and I went stiff.

This was how the Sabretooth episode started. Oh man, was he still here? Waiting for us? My body was tensed ready to run or fight, I wasn't sure. I turned to face the window, and like earlier that night I bumped into him. When did he get into the bed?

"I'm not going to try anything, Miss Suspicious." He promised..? "Just go to sleep, I won't let anything happen." Then (as if my tight as a coil body wasn't tense _enough_) I felt his hand skim across my waist from one side to the other, and once it got to the other side, he pulled me close to his body. I wanted to cry. He wasn't free, so why was he torturing me like this?

I was facing him, and so close that I could tell that he had been using Crest toothpaste (No, I didn't make a habit of smelling toothpastes, I just happened to know it cause, well, I'd kissed him before-why was I explaining this?).

"W-what about the others?" I asked in a whisper.

"Forget them." _Whoa_.

I picked me head up for a moment, trying to look him in the eye (have you ever had to do that when it was pitch black? It's next to impossible), but instead he put his arm where my head was and gave me that as a pillow. Who knew muscles could be soft?

"What about-you know _her_."

When he didn't answer for a few seconds I felt like I was going to have to suffocate him with Stitch. I felt his lips press gingerly to my forehead before he buried his nose into my hair.

"I'll explain that later, just—don't worry about her."

Uh-huh, easy for _him_ to say.


	59. After the Math

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 059**

* * *

"A frying pan?"

I laughed nervously. "Yeah."

Scott sighed, amused or annoyed (who could tell?).

"You had millions of dollars worth of equipment, both earth and alien, and you used a frying pan?"

Was it so hard to come to terms with?

"Yeah, as we found out, once those 'millions of dollars worth of equipment' gets unplugged, they turn into millions of dollars worth of useless metal. However, a frying pan was—practical and portable." Okay, not really _practical_, but it sure did do the job of smashing Sabretooth's face in well enough.

Storm and the Professor were both smiling while laughing under their breaths. I felt like a comedian in front of the toughest crowd on the planet. I was just glad they didn't have any rotten fruit.

"Practical?" There was that echo in again. "After almost a year of training, you found a frying pan _practical_?"

"I was using what was available at the time." It was either fight the killer with a frying pan or start throwing teammates at him; I picked the less messy way out. Gathering my withering courage I continued to defend my weapon of choice, "I wouldn't consider it, if I were you, as panicking and forgetting every—_delightful_, uhm, 'tick of the trade' you've been trying to engrain into us for the past year, I'd like to think of it as using my resources."

Scott gave me an amused smile that reflected in his tone, "A frying pan."

I thought we got past this.

"Yeah, a frying pan." I was thinking of having it as a special add-on to my 'utility belt'.

Professor chuckled.

"Very well, Kookie. Please tell Adrian to come in."

Wow, I wasn't going to get in trouble? Like a good little unpunished person, I went to the door and did like he said to do. Adrian shuffled in, head hung, and hands shoved into his pockets. The perfect picture of 'oh man, I know what's coming' attitude.

"Yes, sir?" I was about to leave when Scott told me to shut the door. Oh great, just when I thought I was out of the—uh, frying pan I went into the fire apparently.

"Adrian," no more amusement, just rock hard seriousness coming from the Professor. At this moment I was _so_ thankful not to be on the receiving end of that tone (for once). I tell you, I expected to see Adrian's name on a _gravestone_ Professor said it so hard. "You were left in charge, were you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you then left the grounds, correct?" Fingers steepled, maybe I should take measurements for Adrian's coffin...

Adrian started to fidget. "Yes, sir."

"Why?" This time Miss Ororo asked, and when Scott folded his arms against his chest, I knew I would be sending my sincerest apologies to Adrian's brother.

"Uh, well because-" Adrian stumbled. Didn't he realize he was digging a deeper hole? "I went to see-I went into to town."

"Were you aware of Chris' unauthorized electrical experiments?"

"I-sort of did." Liar. He knew _exactly_ what Chris was doing. Corbo had complained about it a few hours after being left in charge. All his video games were on the blink because of shock-happy boy. "I didn't think it would cause this." Then, from somewhere unknown the ugly bug of courage bit him. "And it's not like I left in secret. I told them all, and I even left Kookie in charge. If you want to gripe at someone, why not her?"

_Hello,_ Mr. Hyde!

"Ex-_cuse_ me?" In an expression of D-M's: them's fightin' words!

"Kerry," Scott cut in—no, correction, _Cyclops_ cut in. "Stay out of this."

Whoa.

"We left _you_ in charge, Adrian." Storm pointed out, _again_. "Therefore the responsibility falls upon you."

"But I left _Kerry_ in charge."

My little list of potential homicide victims just kept getting longer.

"We left you in charge that means _you_ were to remain here and be a leader in case anything happened to your team. You failed to do such."

_Majorly_.

Ooops, the Professor shot me a look, guess my defenses were down or something and I was 'thinking' loud again.

"Being a leader means being _accountable_, which means signifies putting the team _before_ your personal relationships, knowing where and when to be, and always being aware of the dangers your team could face." Scott's ever popular 'how to be a leader' speech. I think he forgot to mention you had to have a steel rod up your behind which doubled as your backbone.

Another look from the Professor and _gee_ weren't my shoes interesting?

"What's the big _deal_?" Adrian pressed (dumb and pretty soon to be dead guy). "Nobody got hurt."

Scott shot me a warning look, the Professor started to say something mentally to me but it was _way_ too late. My teeth clamped as my jaw locked, "I. Don't. Believe. You!"

Storm then tried to interrupt me, but there was something that I had in common with many of the people in the house, you mess with _mine_ and I'd mess you _up_.

"Back off, Summers," Adrian admonished. The world faded away to just me and him like never before.

"I _told_ you, Adrian. You _knew_ what you were doing and _you_ didn't _care_."

He stiffened, and I got full of myself (or just more aggression).

"_Chris_ got _hurt_. In case you are a _complete_ idiot, and I haven't ruled out _that_ possibility, you'd know that he took up a new residence in the _medical wing_."

I think Professor said something or tried to, but when I got on my high horse you might as well let me ride it until it died.

"You _suck_ at being a leader, and you _suck_ at being _friend_. The only thing you seem to be good at is _running away _so you wouldn't be where you _needed_ to be."

"You didn't seem to mind," he bit back, over his shoulder I could see Storm and Scott started coming toward us. "You got a chance to be a glory _hog_ again."

"_Me!_? I wasn't the one who tried to let the air out of Bobby's _head_ in January!"

"If _you_ hadn't chickened out, I wouldn't have had to take charge!" Adrian (after thinking for about two seconds) just let me win this fight. In fact, instead of saying anything I just tipped my head, smirked, and crossed my arms across my chest. My wings even seemed to all but twitter with glee.

I heard angels bust out with peals of laughter when Adrian, again, paled in realization when he caught on to his mistake. He just called the kettle black.

Storm and Cyclops separated us, attempted to calm us down while we continued to glare at one another.

At the end of the grudge match, they gave me a very interesting question.

* * *

There were a grand total of two things I needed the most after I left the Professor's office. One was to fly around and get some fresh air, and the second was to lock up all sharp objects and frying pans before my team became dangerous with them.

This probably wasn't right to think, but it got a person's attention faster, right?

I sighed and tucked my knees to my chest.

I flew all right, and I flew right off to the boathouse. Don't ask me _why_. I was kind of setting myself up for failure. You know that annoying little voice in the back of your brain that quotes the truth? Not the conscience, but rather the ear-bleeding, little prickly know-it-all voice? Yeah, well, I'd like to smother it with my behind, because it wouldn't shut up.

'You're here, because your parents are here,' it said in a sing-song voice.

I shook my head, hoping to knock over the little voice from the stage it stood on with the megaphone to my brain.

I'd like to chunk it into the lake and drown it.

Scott said I did a good job, but so did the Professor. Grace under pressure was an admirable trait, blah blah blah and didn't fight with Adrian—at least with witnesses who were capable of testifying. But one thing bugged me the most about that odd meeting (disregarding the whole Adrian thing) was that Scott never said _anything_ beyond what the others said.

Big deal right?

He's my new 'father figure' and it didn't take a genius to figure out I preferred my dad over my mo-_Heather_ any day of the week. Dad might have died, but he never pushed me away. He loved me, but with Scott, I didn't want love (if I did, would that be _too_ freaking weird or _what_?) I thought I was going for something else. I did want his 'dad' love, but it just felt weird to think about it.

Okay, like major secret time.

Back when I was still _normal_ (at least back before the wings and the skin and the whole mysterious _confusing_ romance thing) I had studied mutants. Well, duh. I had said as much before. I knew _about_ the X-Men, but, of course, Trish Tilby didn't exactly call them by name. _Anyway_, I used to think how cool it would be to run around saving the world and striking poses, using witty comebacks, and all the other typical perfect hero stuff. I thought that if I were to be a hero (or a heroin) I would make my parents proud.

Let's face it, my grades weren't the best (they're average for the _most_ part), my attitude wasn't the best, my height, build and hair were all average. Heck, if it wasn't for the wings I think I'd blend into the wallpaper in any given elevator.

I was that dull.

At least in _my_ mind.

But back to where I was going to go before I took the back roads to Depression, and that was straight to Honesty Central.

Think about it, if becoming a 'hero' had been a 'dream' of mine to make my parents proud, and _those_ parents were gone (I feel like I was talking about something as trivial as _socks_ for crying out loud) I had a _new_ set to try to make proud of me. I didn't know why, exactly. Maybe it's because my mo-_Heather_ called and then pushed me away again, maybe because she kicked me out, harassed me, and then 'divorced' me as her own flesh and blood.

But what did this have to do with Scott?

Simple, Jean and I were still having problems (I was a teenage girl, she's the 'mother' person, it's like some kind of law that we had to fight) but Scott reminded me so much of my biological Dad, Zach. Zach-Dad always said he loved me and the major thing I couldn't stand was for him to say _only_ that. When I was in dance class (when I broke the other girl's toe when I missed the step?) afterwards all he said was 'I still love you' and left it at that.

And why was I complaining? One might scream. Yes. It's a very Kerry thing to do. Never, not once, did Dad ever say he was proud of me, so there you had it. I wanted Scott to be proud of me. I wanted to _hear_ him say those words because I had him and only him to look up to as a father now.

Okay, sappy moment over.

I had to go wash my mouth out with bleach.

I wondered if my tongue would become all blotchy like jeans when they got bleached?

Also, (no, no more sappy thinking it's not my style) it still bothered me what Adrian said-I have to prove him wrong before I can say 'yes'. It won't be confusing for too long, I'd explain later.

* * *

Back in school, spinning my pencil while Bobby-Jerk went over how to do compound interest or something else as equally boring, I tried hard not to do what Adrian was doing, which was nodding off. Bobby-Jerk kept up with the retarded examples. I yawned and scribbled some fake notes on my paper just to make sure the 'teach' would think I was listening to his dumbness.

When the bell rang, I stayed in the room to wait for the next lesson, which was exactly what he said in _this_ lesson. Yawning, I leaned back in my seat awaiting my punishment like a good little clone.

"Ready to review?"

"Stop teasing me with the possibility that I could get out of this."

He smiled, "You're getting pretty good at this. Keeping up with my humor, I mean, not the math."

I was about to stick out my tongue until his eyebrow shot up and those lips quirked into a smirk. Instead I groaned.

"And that's supposed to be a compliment?" I was just happy that next week was Spring Break! I wondered if the X-Men actually _believed_ in Spring Break?

Probably not, 'spring break' to them was going to be something twisted like 'spring training' I just knew it.

* * *

It was a few days later in the Danger Room I stood with a nicely healed Chris.

I thought the team was going to want to pluck my feathers out, but it turned out I wanted to take _their_ feathers out. And since none of them _had_ feathers, I was thinking I'd substitute it with tweezers while removing all their facial hair.

What were they doing?

Nothing.

Absolutely, stinking nothing. There was a huge, steaming pile of nothing standing in the Danger Room where the people I thought were my teammates once stood. They were just _standing_ there. I was freaked out at first, and then I remembered their conversation (while I was _under_ Chris' bed) about doing something like this. I should have told them, right?

Maybe if I told them, they wouldn't be pulling something like this now.

"X-Citers, move," Professor's voice was 'do-my-will' tone. "Enough of this joke."

"No joke, Professor." _Daisy_ was going to be the spokesperson? This wasn't going to be pretty. "We want _Ker_-, uh, _Koo_, oh wait..."

"We want Blyt back as the legal bossy, stuck up one," Chris finished. Thanks for the compliments-_dork_. "Flex needs to get out of here."

Adrian snorted and glared over at me. It wasn't like I _planned_ this, ya know! Of course, I could have prevented this had I told them what had happened. Instead of letting them voice their opinions to Professor who, for the most part, was silent in his little 'box of gloom and doom'.

"_Make_ Blyt our leader again!" Chris wrapped up after a few minutes of complaining what was wrong with Adrian's non-existent leadership capabilities.

Then the ever dreaded moment of silence occurred, the space of 60 seconds where your world could be loped off like a very thin, fragile brittle thread. I bit my lip and waited for one of the people in the 'God box' to explain.

For once they didn't break into their mutant ability of boring everyone to death with longer than life speeches. This was the _first_ time I could remember regretting this fact.

"Perhaps you should ask Blyt her opinion," Professor's voice was exacting. All the eyes in the Danger Room turned toward me (I was hanging around in the back, near the doors. One never knew when one would have to claw their way out of the Danger Room from mad, unhappy team members). I wanted the signature big shinny cannons to come out and shoot me.

Being wounded would probably invoke sympathy from these people. Then again, maybe not.

"Blyt?" Gecko asked finally. I stood as still and hard as stone. "What's up?"

I didn't blink. I knew they weren't going to like what I had to say. Heck, _I_ didn't like it either but it was my choice to see if I was right about more than one thing. Also, because I didn't think I'd be able to handle it right now.

"What's going on?" Chris shouted to the big hidden wigs.

"Blyt," such a strong command for it only being one word. Why couldn't he condense _all_ his speeches into one word? Did he have any idea how much time that would save?

I sighed heavily.

"They offered me the position, again."

Grins broke out across everyone's faces (even Adrian) as they started to go on and on about how they finally realized something good about me. Daisy also realized something about me, like I wasn't moving or talking.

"Waitasec, what's the catch?" D-M asked, hands on hips, eyeing me dangerously. And then, Happy-Happy car on the roller coaster of mood swings jumped off the track and landed on the _Say What!_ cycle. Adam's smile slowly faded away as I just stood there like a dumb apple tree (I was from Washington, it's supposed to be a joke).

Then _I_ got to do the moment of silence.

"I declined the offer."

"I-I can't believe what I'm hearing!" Chris shouted and pretty soon I was surrounded by everyone and they were all shouting. Well, except Adrian. He looked—exasperated.

"_Why_?" Adam shouted, "You _deserve_ to be leader."

"No, I don't," my voice was sharp and cold. "I don't want to discuss it; we have an exercise to do."

D-M, Chris, and Adam exchanged looks, highly irritated looks.

* * *

I sighed and fell back on my bed. Daisy, Chris, and Adam weren't on talking terms with me. It had been two days since the Danger Room experience and they were so ticked off with me that I had been eating alone at school. Any knock on my door was always a surprise, but because I now had half the people trying to hurt me it was even _more_of a shock. I propped myself up on my elbows and told the person to come in.

Expecting Sam, Scott, or one of the others who had been or were current leaders of the X-Men to come in-_he_ poked his head through instead. It was just enough of a target for me to lob my pillow toward.

"Hey!" He ducked out before the pillow made contact. Dang it! I kept forgetting they teach super fast reflexes at this place! Sometimes it made life hard to live here because you had to chase your victims down to hurt them. "Does this mean you're not happy to see me?"

"I'm thinking of hiring someone to break your legs."

He snorted.

"Right, everyone knows that I'm never there for you or anything or a perfect gentleman when you are vulnerable and in _my _room, alone, and in the dark." He stepped in, shut the door and finished his speech. "Oh, and sleeping with me in the same bed."

I rolled my eyes and dropped back on my bed again.

"Does your sarcasm have a point or are you just trying to get rid of some back log?"

"And your charming personality shines through again."

"I already feel like crap, so your job is done." I shifted over on my side, trying to give him the best cold shoulder I knew how.

"Direct, to the point, and full of emotion, just how I like to be blown off." He lay down next to me, face-to-face. Well, profile-to-face because he wasn't looking at me. "But seriously," that's a concept he didn't know too much about in private.

I guessed there was no getting rid of him, might as well annoy him to death or annoy him to leaving or _something_.

"What brings you to my room?"

"I told her I wasn't interested." I didn't have a clue what he was talking about for a moment, then it hit me. His would-be girlfriend, he was talking about his _'her'_.

"So you came crawling to second best? Gee, thanks. I don't know what to say." I glared in his direction and when he finally looked over at me (thankfully without a smile), "Oh wait, yes I do. Get. Out. I'm not second fiddle in anyone's band."

Man, that was corny.

He sighed/groaned. "Bear with me. You are _not_ my second; you are my first chair as far as I was concerned."

"Sure, and you were only hanging out with _her_ and treating me like a noone because you were trying to make me jealous." I rolled my eyes. "How original of an excuse."

"Partly."

"Oh, please."

"Okay, I _agreed_ to her little idea," and he did mean little, "Because she wanted to make _her_ ex jealous. I never would have agreed to do it if I didn't think you and Chris had something going on behind the scenes," he muttered.

"_You_ and _I_ were 'behind the scenes'; me and Chris are on stage acting out his death scene." Another thought struck me, "Or trying to be stand up comedians, I'm not too sure anymore."

There was no way I was going to hold Chris accountable for what he said to me while there was a severe lack of blood in his body. He didn't _really_ like me. He hated me. That was our relationship, to make our exes jealous and go to prom together while maintaining a healthy love-to-hate understanding.

"Kerry." Then he had to do the whole face touch thing which made me speechless, it wasn't fair, he wasn't playing fair! And the way he smiled, he dang well knew what he was doing! _Argh_! How could I stay mad at someone who was trying to be charming? And so _close_? "Don't you know me well enough by _now_ to believe me—"

"Capable of such idiocy?" I smirked. "I know you well enough to _know_ you're capable of that."

He flinched. "Okay, I think I might have pushed that one on myself. But did I turn you out when you needed me?"

Oh sure, he had to use the technicalities again. Just because I went crying to him one stinking night I had to end up paying for it all my teenage years? I only had two years and some odd months to go before I was no longer a teenager. When he started to lean in, I suddenly remembered something and I sat up quickly.

He still _hurt_ me-and he just admitted it was _on purpose_. I knew that any sort of relationship was not supposed to be static, but this one had more ups and downs than Oprah's weight.

There was another knock on my door, and I had never been so happy to hear one in my _life_.

"Come in," and another head peeked around my door.

"Oh, sorry, didn't know you had company?" I shrugged. "I kind of have something I wanted to talk to you about. In _private_."

That was wordy, I gave _him_ one look and he sighed, got up, and left without another word.

"What was _he_ doing here?"

"You had something you wanted to talk to me about?" I probed, trying to neglect the question.

"Yeah," my visitor didn't look me in the eyes. After two seconds I understood why, "Kerry, I decided to quit Xavier's."


	60. Blackbirds in & out

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 060**

* * *

These people-I thought they were messed up before but _now_I had undeniable proof!

I think this was revenge for turning them down with a just cause, but I could never be sure with these sometimes psychotic acting 'heroes'. And I say that with as much love as I could for people who wore spandex and made decisions, not only for me, but for the entire mutant race.

But let me get back on my previous soapbox.

It was April and I had convinced Miss Ororo to ride with me without the duel break _or_ 'Student Driver' sticker on the car. Of course she kept asking who the heck 'Jack' was because Alexis kept asking and my only answer was to neatly sidestep the question every time by slamming on the breaks.

And everyone knew how much I had to beg Scott and Jean to let me take Driver's Education at the high school, so it was kind of an eye-bugging moment when I was having dinner with them and they pop off with another type of 'education'.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, dropping the spoon with the snot balls (peas, man I hated those nasty little things).

"No," Scott's stiff who learned the tone of 'thou shall do whatever I say' from the Professor. It's a real fun voice, trust me. "Every trainee is required to learn how to maneuver-"

"But I had to pull _teeth_ from you to learn to drive a _car_." I cut in. "And now you are telling me I _have_ to learn to fly a plane?"

"Yes, both the Blackbird and the smaller X-Jets. You were supposed to be practicing in the simulator for months, somehow it always got-overlooked." Jean (not comforting) pointed out for me. Oh, joy. I got to learn to crash both the 'company' plane and the 'personal' planes. I wondered if they had a 'break it and buy it' policy?

I was going to be in debt.

"You people need to check your priorities," not to mention their soon to be depleted checkbook, "You have doubts about me driving a two to three ton car on the _ground_ but _make_ me drive something about four times heavier, in the air, and armed with _missiles_?"

Scott cracked a smile. "We'll disarm them before you get behind the 'wheel'."

Still didn't mean I couldn't, in some freaky far-fetched way, blow the dumb plane up. I could do the impossible, especially if it dealt with major property damage and me looking like a nitwit.

"It's a-" think, think, something that would get them to say 'okay, bad idea'. "-complete waste of time. I've got wings. I already fly. And, when my powers aren't whacked out, I can carry a passenger." And on my airlines I gave them the _whole_ can of coke instead of just a drop.

Not that I had room in my uniform for a mini bar and refrigerator. There was barely room for _me_ in that ridiculous thing.

Maybe they could add it to my utility belt?

"Nice try, Kookie, I respect that, but you are going to have to learn to use the planes properly if your team is ever expected to go out on the field by themselves."

Oh goody, just what I wanted to do. Take the cast of _Dumb and Dumber_ on the 'field' without any seniors around. Could we say 'instant death'? Don't even have to add water! Just Kookie behind the wheel of an airplane.'

"Is this why you wanted me to come here tonight? So you could tell me that I'll be adding more to my schedule? Or did you just want me to help plan my own funeral?"

"Not completely." Scott began, but like those disgustingly sweet close married couples could do (and it helped if one in the said couple was a telepath) Jean finished for him; "We wanted you here to get to know you better."

Oh-kay. That was disturbing. Being a teenager didn't mean I spent time with my parents 'getting to know them'; it meant I acted strange and weird and they sat up at night wondering where they went wrong. Didn't they know how it worked? Of course nothing went as it should at this place. Everything went on its own little path with no respect for how the _rest_ of the world did it or natural laws...like gravity or something.

"So, how has your life been going?" Jean (I was sure she thought it was harmless) questioned.

Well, besides almost being _killed_ by a psycho cat on steroids, not being able to sleep in a dark room for a week afterward, and _still_ not being able to sleep the whole night through—pretty good. _Oh_ and let's talk about school-school, let's see, I was going to prom with someone I didn't really get along with in a civilized way, I was flunking an X-Man's class, _oh_ and I had to write a corny letter to the two of _you_. What was I supposed to say in the letter? Thanks for the bruises?

But instead of all this, I smiled and said my favorite one-word answer that every reluctant teenager grasped on to.

"Fine."

Jean sighed, got up and began to clear several of the dishes. Scott and I watched her leave before he gave me the serious 'eye'.

"Why did you refuse to be team leader?"

"_Scott_!"

Guess he wasn't supposed to ask. He shouted back that it was a fair question and Jean sighed but didn't say anything more. Attention was back on me. I couldn't tell him it was because I wanted to see if they liked me for me or just because I was following in their footsteps. So I did my best with just a shrug.

He didn't buy it.

"Kerry, we both know you're intelligent and capable of thinking things through." Scott started to shove more food in his mouth as I was sitting there thinking about how dang clever he was. After a few minutes, and a swallow, he continued "So what were your reasons for turning the Professor down?"

The way he worded it was like I had turned the Professor down for dinner and a movie or something.

"I have my reasons." It was the typical response given by all have-been leaders that wore an X. He shoved it down my throat, why couldn't I return the favor?

And since _when_ when did I ever show proof I had a brain?

* * *

Back in the Danger Room around ten in the morning all of the X-Citers stretched and yawned to no end. I didn't know why people who were _self-employed _felt the need to get up early on a week which was _clearly_labeled as a 'break'. But here we were on Wednesday.

Some great Spring Break.

This was Julie's test run in the Danger Room. How did she get bumped up so quickly? She literally was worked day and night for the past two weeks to get her here. Technically she was a temp until they could prove she should be a real member of the team.

Only, there was _one_ little problem.

She was a stubborn and thick headed as—well, I was not sure who was that stubborn. But everything anyone tried to tell her, she fought.

"Julie," Professor spoke over the intercom, "We have started the exercise, I would advise you to move."

I think it was really kinda obvious that the exercise had started though it was more like jumping in the middle of a war scene than anything.

"Why? What's my motivation?" Julie shot, arms crossed and a, let's say, _stuff_-eating grin on her face.

"Does living matter to you?" Adam screamed across the room, D-M rolled her eyes (she was next to me and Adrian was on the other side, we were currently running from the 'humans' who had the 'guns' and were supposed to be searching for us in the simulation).

"Wot are they goin' to do? _Kill_ me?"

"No," Chris started, "but you'd be surprised what you can live through."

"Flex, your teammate is in trouble."

"What's he want me to do? Throw her over my shoulder and run?"

_That_ caught her attention.

"You lay one bloody finger on me and I'll emasculate you!"

Needless to say, the mighty 'leader' didn't move.

"I mean _really_. How am I supposed to pretend that I'm scared of an-interactive info-mercial. What am I going to do? Sell mutant rights?"

Anyone else felt an ulcer developing?

Just then the Professor must have gotten a funny bone or something twisted since one of the human gun people came and raised his gun in Julie's face. She just looked at the guy.

"Oh, bugger off." She didn't say this to the hologram, nope; she was looking up at the 'god box'.

"If she gets hurt in the Danger Room, can we say it was just an accident and finish the job?" Daisy-Mae asked as Julie stormed past us and the made up war zone dissolved.

Boy did I feel sorry for the idiot who had to take care of _that_ girl, Julie not Daisy.

I smirked as Adrian was called to the Professor's office, yet again.

* * *

I completely avoided the deserter when I could, I couldn't believe one of my team was buckling under pressure and hitting the road back home. The person _completely_ ignored me when I insisted they talk to Professor Xavier about this, but they insisted not. They were set to do it and they knew the gift Professor had of talking (manipulating) people in and out of things he wanted to be done. If the Professor _wanted_you here, you were going to stay.

Telling the others seemed a deadly idea (because I was sure I'd get blamed) and I didn't want to be the dead one. It wasn't like I had anything to do with the decision. Okay, so my refusing to be leader had a _very_ small factor into it. What could I say? I couldn't be responsible for my teammate's ideas and rash actions.

Feel me smirk as I said happily, "I'm not the boss of them."

So in order to completely avoid everyone, I had actually volunteered to do the dishes. Jean was thrilled that she didn't have to do them (even though I think that if you do it telekinetically it shouldn't be considered _doing_ the dishes) and I was happy when my team ran for the hills.

Good, I wouldn't be disturbed by them.

Not like the three were talking to me. Julie wasn't locked up again, but she was sedated after going nuts with her powers and having a serious 'lust' factor going off in the house. Nothing came of it, thank goodness, but the possibilities were frightening.

I was cheerfully (so I was lying, big deal) washing out the pot from whatever it was Mr. Remy had created when I heard a disturbing noise.

It was a 'cling'. A nice soft cling and as I rinsed off the pot my eyes became huge as I witnessed a small gold ring go down the drain.

Oh _crap_ and a half!

_Jean_ was the only one in here before me-oh _man_! That must have been her _wedding-freaking _ _ring_!

Why me? I whimpered, did the half turn knee bend thing and shut off the water, threw the pot on the counter and looked down into the black abyss otherwise known as the garbage disposal.

There was _sludge_ down there—Mr. Remy's 'food', Jean's cooking, and various decaying scraps. Oh _crap_. I was _so_ dead. I could go and tell Jean, and maybe she could lift it out of the drain with her brain power with no problem.

I closed my eyes and began to reach in—scalding my hand (to rinse off whatever was going to get on it) would be a small price to pay to keep Jean from having my head on a platter.

It was _her_fault for leaving the dumb ring in the kitchen and by the sink, but it would be my fault. I was a teenager, therefore it was my fault. It's another teenager law or something.

As soon as I put my hand down in the nasty muck, of _course_ someone walked in.

"Kookie-" Scott had impeccable timing. I needed to tie him up some time, just to see if it was just my misfortune or if he had some kind of 'Kookie-did-something' tingle. One eyebrow shot up as I snatched my hand out of the sink, slathered on a fake grin, and waited. "What are you up to?"

"I was-" think, think. I had to lie, and quickly he was waiting on me now, oh _crap_. Why me? "I-dropped a-f-fork down the drain."

"You're not done?" Done _for_, yes. "Too bad, Jean and I were going to run into town to pick up some film she developed or something. Is there anything you need?"

My big fake grin got bigger, "No." I forced myself to release the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. "I-thanks for asking though."

He nodded and left. I rolled my eyes as I sighed. There was no telling what kind of junk they were going to put me through for this mess up.

Resolving it was do or face a fate worse than eating Miss Rogue's ice cream, I reached into the drain again. Groaning in realization that of course this disposal couldn't be a small one like all the others in America, oh _no_, this one was like the size of Denmark or something. It was deep enough that I had my arm past the elbow in this thing.

Ah hah! I could feel the dumb ring at my fingers-

"Summers," Mr. Logan. I tried to stand up-oh no. Nonononononono!

"Yes?" I asked with the sweetest voice I could accomplish as I realized my life was going to come to an embarrassing end.

"Have you seen, Cajun?"

"No, I haven't seen Mr. Remy since dinner." He nodded, gave me a funny look and before he could ask, "I dropped a fork down the drain."

Oh, great, he seemed interested, "And you're going to put your hand in hell knows what to get it back?"

Did I mention I sucked at lying on the spot?

"It's—my favorite fork." I gave a pathetic laugh, "I can't eat without it."

"Women." And that was all he said as he turned to leave.

While I- I realized that I was going to have to each for a knife and cut my arm off to get it _unstuck_ from the drain! What kind of loser was I to get my arm stuck like this?

I was in the kitchen for about five minutes (all the time I was jerking and trying to get my arm free from the evil kitchen drain) when the door swung open again. To protect my pride as long as possible, I ducked close to the sink like I was purposely stuck or something.

Looking over my shoulder I saw Sam completely ignoring me and rummaging through the 'fridge. If anyone liked me up there, I hoped he would get whatever he was looking for and leave.

Well, Sam might have been doing that but when Bobby-Jerk walked in, I knew I was forever going to be the butt of his jokes. Bad and sorry jokes at that, but it was going to be okay, he could laugh all he wanted—someday I'd be free, and then, _revenge_!

"Hey, Kook."

I glared over my shoulder.

"Just shut-up!" I growled, and his eyebrows shot up. Guess I sort of did jump the gun.

"What's your problem? And—why is your arm in the drain? Do you have any idea of what probably _lives_ down there?"

"The rest of your race?" I snapped and tried to get my arm out of the drain with a subtle jerk.

"You're stuck!" Sam spit out in a shocked tone.

Thanks for clearing that up and here I thought I was mutating into a kitchen sink.

"I'm not stuck!" Yes, this was my dwindling pride in Denialville, "I'm—bonding." Oh that was painful. That was _lame_._ I_ even felt like making fun of me for that excuse.

I banged my head against the lip of the sink (just like old times). Oh, I wanted to curl up in the sink and die. Maybe the creature that lived down there would eat up the rest of me to save me from any future ridicule.

"Have you ever tried bonding with the toilet?"

I knew he was going to do this (totally missing the truth that I started this conversation on the wrong foot), "You know, I keep trying but every time I try, your head is stuck in it."

Sam laughed nervously. "Come on, y'all. Let's just work together and get her free."

Had to love those country manners.

Well, 'getting her free' by all of us 'working together' got us absolutely no where. I was still stuck, and the more they bumped the sink the more I felt the ring slip from my fingertips.

"What about butter?" Sam asked, wiping his forehead. It was not hot in here, must be because the evil garbage disposal was giving all three of us a workout.

"It might work." Joy now I was going to be a buttered Kookie. "Oh wait, we don't have any butter-butter, we only have that powered stuff." He looked at me with a wicked smile, "How about I just freeze her out? You do have _two_ arms."

"And a good aim with either of them," I warned (it was a bluff, but he didn't know that-I think).

Sam shivered in disgust as he said, "Why not just let your skin be ripped off? Your black skin should be able to let you go."

_Eeewwwww_!

Bobby-Jerk made heaving noises (fake ones) when I closed my eyes and did what Sam suggested. I heard the rip and felt the familiar tingle as I slowly tugged my arm and hand free.

"Oh, awh, that's _disgusting_." Bobby-Jerk stuck out his tongue and twisted his head away. "Can you pick that up or something?"

Sam wanted to smile because his idea worked, but that meant he'd have to look at my dead skin lying in the sink. Completely disgusting, as said by the Iceboy of the X-Men.

"I have to," I said, picking up my skin 'glove' from the sink and throwing it in the garbage can (if the garbage men peeked, they might get scared) the ring was still down there. By the silence I knew I forgot to mention that little tidbit.

"Your ring?" Sam asked, looking down in the black pit. "Is it _that_ what is so important?"

"I didn't even know you _wore_ a ring." Bobby-Jerk commented innocently. I glared at him. How the heck would he know or _not_?

"It's, uh, not mine."

"Then whose is it?" I whipped my head around to see Mr. Logan standing in the doorway.

I blanched, "Uh, M-Mis-Jean's."

All of them went quiet. Looking over each of the men, they had surprise or terror (whatever) on their faces.

I was going to be _so_ dead when Jean got back.

* * *

A day later, I was relaxing by the TV with a picture of the beach on the screen. Most everyone had gone into town or to their rooms for the day. Mr. Logan had taken off toward the nearest bar after his session with Julie, and Julie was _dragged_back into the Professor's office.

Apparently she was being more than stubborn in her 'training'.

I thought it was hilarious, because like Mary and her little lamb, it was Julie followed by the grumbling, glaring Adrian, since he was her team captain and all.

Flipping from the beach to the middle of the desert with some guy singing about finding an oasis or seeing a mirage or something, I wiggled further into the chair making myself comfortable.

And you know it always happened, as soon as you got comfortable? There was always a knock on the door, or someone screamed for you or something that made you lose that single comfortable position.

"Kookie, can you go and get the mail?" Oh, sure, I wasn't busy doing anything. I was just relaxing, and come on! How many times did I get to do that? Oh, right, never.

But I got to my feet and made my way to the front door and from there I took to the air (the drive way was more like a road it was so long) and did as I was told. There was a whole packet of mail and a few packages. Being nosey as to who was 'eligible to win 1,000,000!' I was shocked to see a small package for me.

Actually, it wasn't postmarked or anything. It just had my name on it. 'Kerry D'mon' was scratched out and 'Kookie Summers' was written in red permanent marker.

I shrugged, and decided it'd be better to open it at the house then standing almost on the side of the road in shorts and tank and with no image inducer.

Flying back, I dumped the mail off on the in table by the front door and went to Scott and Jean's. Since I was already playing mail bird, why not finish the job?

Jean was home and let me in no problem, she started to sigh as she flipped through the stack of mail (mostly credit card bills). I flopped down on the couch and stared at my little package.

Like most dumb people do, I shook the box and there was a small 'thudding' noise. Now, had I been _smart_, I might have thought something like: 'this might be a bomb' but I was not smart and instead I put the rest of the mail down and tore into the package.

There was a folded letter on top and a semi-familiar smell on the paper. Flipping it open, I was then thoroughly confused.

'Broken wings,' was what it read, 'Such beautiful things.'

Ever have every hair on your neck stand on end? Sort of like a pop quiz on Monday type freaky? Putting the letter down, I pushed the packaging paper to the side-

I said the first thing that came to mind, "_Jeeeeaaaannnn_!"

* * *

A word to the wise, when an adult says, "We have something we'd like to discuss with you" it meant that they made a decision for you and were just trying to find a way to break the news. I had only theorized about this but on Sunday, at dinner with Scott and Jean (again) it became a cold hard fact.

Another fact was that while the Professor was completely baffled as to why Wolverine would choose to claw the sink to an early death (the plumber was coming on Monday) it was more or less why the garbage men _refused_to pick up the trash anymore.

Apparently they peeked into the bag and found my skin. That's my theory at least and nothing else was volunteered, though I was not going to tell anyone that wasn't involved with the fiasco about it.

And as for the package-well, that's why I was back at my parents' house. Inside the package was a skeleton of a black bird and another, smaller skeleton of a _baby_ black bird.

They were trying to get the package traced. The mailman didn't know anything though and said he didn't see anyone and that he never touched _that_ box. It wasn't labeled or anything.

Just the note and birds.

Back to the dinner, it was the Sunday before we went back to school (Spring Break just seemed to fly by) and I was back in the boathouse. I had no idea what brought this sudden Kookie affection on, but it seemed as though they couldn't get enough of me. I was even starting to think that Adrian had been completely wrong about Scott.

The conversation started off normal enough.

That should have been a dead giveaway they were stalling.

"I heard that you and Chris are going to Prom together," Jean commented with a smile that sent warning bells off in my head. It was an unspoken agreement _not_ to mention the whole dead-bird thing. It freaked me out and ticked off the Professor to have something like that happen under his nose.

"Just as friends," I pointed out before she got any cute ideas. Then there was five minutes of silence, and suddenly Scott popped off with something that almost had me choking on my roast beef.

"Something's bothering you," Oh no, with an opening like that I just _knew_ what was going to come next—"Want to talk about it?"

I rolled my eyes and calmly replied, "Why does every one ask me that? If I _wanted_ to talk about it, I would call someone and say 'hey, I need to talk.' Sheesh."

"So you _don't_ want to talk about it."

I started to pick on the corners of the table.

"Of _course_ I want to talk about it! Did I actually ever say 'no'?"

Glancing up I saw both of them giving me a lost look before Scott recovered.

"You can be very confusing."

"I'm teenager and a female, two very good reasons why I would appear confusing to a guy who is old—er." Slippery recovery! "It's about a guy on the team."

"Uh-Maybe you should talk to Jean about this..." He said glancing over at the expressionless woman.

I was completely lost for all of ten seconds. "I don't mean it like _that_."

"Good. Team relationships are looked down on, especially since all of you are so young." It's not like you had false teeth yet, buddy! And I guessed Jean kept failing to mention my current little relationship. Either that or she didn't know that it was now official or something (I _think_). "So what did you mean?"

"Someone wants to quit."

"What? I haven't heard anything about that. Did they tell Xavier? When did you find this out?"

"Slow down, please. They told me, in _confidence_, about a week ago. They just don't think they are cut out for this lifestyle." Which I couldn't blame him for thinking that way.

Jean sighed, "Who is it?"

"Just one of the guys." Vague answers were always the best. "He wouldn't say _why_, just when. All he told me was that this isn't what he thought it would be and he'd be leaving after Chris' graduation. He wants to finish some things or something like that."

"Wow, learn something new every day," then there was the dreaded line, "Kookie, we have something we'd like to discuss with you."

And _still_ I was dumb enough to go, "What?"

They were nice enough not to push a name out of me, tell me if that wasn't like, the biggest 'they're going to say something you don't like hint' or not?

"We'd like-that is— after all that's happened in the past year since you've come here-"

"And before," Scott added under his breath.

"We, Scott and I, think it would be best if you would start seeing a psychiatrist."

There was too much anger to ignore or just glare about.

"A _shrink_?" I screamed slamming down my silverware. "_Why_? Why should I?!"

"Because you're the only one with dead birds in the mail box."

My mouth dropped open, the first response I was ready to give them wasn't pretty. It was 'colorful' and I didn't need anyone seeing red but me.

"This _sucks_! Because some _psycho_ out there sends me some dead _birds_ you think _I'm_ the one who needs to be committed?"

"Kerry, calm down."

"_No_! Have you gone to a psychiatrist?"

"No, not officially."

"Maybe _you're_ the ones who should go to some nut case, pill popper," I grumbled, arms folded and wings so close to my back it hurt. "All this happened because of the –_oh— _so righteous X-Men and interfering with my life, like _now_ for example."

"That's not fair," Jean started, stopping Scott from jumping to his feet.

"Oh and it is fair in your little 'higher' world to send a perfectly _lucid_ girl to a-a-couch tester with letters after his name? That's not _fair_. That's one step away from being medicated or put in the loony bin." Too late, I was already in the mutant loony bin. "Don't I get a say so in my own life!"

"This is important," Jean stressed, still having a death grip on Scott's arm. "You've been through a lot for someone your age."

"And ninety-eight percent is because of you and the almighty X." I got to my feet, ready to run or slug it out, whichever way they preferred. "All my 'mental issues' are from _this_ place! There is _nothing_ you people don't stick your noses. I didn't _ask_ for any of it!"

Scott, I guess, finally had enough and jumped to his feet, "You are _going_ to the doctor on Wednesday, and that _is_ final."

"Like hell it is, Summers." With that I took to the front door and flew back to the mansion.


	61. Broken Triangle?

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 061**

* * *

"Is something wrong, Kookie?" Mr. Drake asked Monday.

It was the last class period of the day and I _still_ hadn't gotten over the whole 'you one crazy girl, need doctor' assessment from _Mr_. and _Mrs._ Summers. I looked at Bobby-Jerk over my shoulder; my eyes were narrowed (I think I got them stuck that way). I was _steaming_ over this whole situation.

"_Why_ would you say _that_?" Okay, I knew Drake didn't do anything wrong, but I still bit his head off.

"Because of the tone of voice, not to mention that's the fifth pencil you've sharpened down to a nub." I looked down at my pencil and sure enough, it was nub-a-fied. I sat back down by him where my homework was waiting.

After a few minutes, I huffed. "Are we going to _do_ anything?"

Mr. Drake's eyebrows shot up.

"You actually _want_ to do homework? Are you sick? Been possessed by a dark entity?" Okay, now it was my turn to look surprised, "Hey, I've seen it happen." Oh, right. It's an _X_-Men thing. Weird junk happened daily and they all were considered _normal_. One person sends me a dead bird and suddenly I was the one who needed a psychiatrist.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Like you ever do."

We started the whole mess about house interest and mortgages and blah blah blah.

"For not being a blood Summers, you sure act like one," Bobby-Jerk muttered under his breath when I started to curse numbers and math in general to the darkest corner of the boys' locker room.

"What's that suppose to mean?" I barked at him, this caught the guy by surprise (probably the fact that I jumped to my feet and knocked over my chair was what really surprised him).

"Whoa! Didn't mean to put Ex-lax in your cookies, Kookie!" He held up his hands in surrender.

I continued to stand, "I am _nothing_ like those people! Do I try to tell everyone how to run their lives? _No_! And I don't tell those on my team who _need_ mental help that I made an appointment for them at the local shrink!"

Oh man! I didn't want anyone finding out! But, of course, I blew it and now Mr. Drake _knew_. _Perfect._

_Argh_!

"You're going to a psychiatrist?"

"If you say 'it's about time' you are _so_ getting hit upside the head," I warned.

"I wouldn't say that, Kerry, I don't think there's anything wrong with you." I stared at him in disbelief, then to cover up what he said for whatever reasons, "Well, except your amazing ability to be constantly beaten by numbers a fraction of your size."

He was _such_ a math dork.

* * *

After school on Tuesday I was happily dragging Chris to the garage.

"_Why_ do I have to do this?" He groaned as the rest of the crew trailed behind us. "Can't you chicks just do this and leave me outta of it?"

"Nope," I chirped and smiled back at him, "You wanted me to go to prom with you, therefore: you must do the right thing and suffer while I try on every dress ever made within the last fifty years."

It was a perk, I hated trying on clothes (dresses just were _not_ me) but making Chris, Bobby-Jerk, (the 'chaperone') and Adam sit through this unique type of female torture was going to be fun.

Not to mention, I had stolen something from a certain wallet. Bobby-Jerk and Mr. Warren taught me that if you pay big bucks, no one checks your ID.

And for this afternoon I was going to be Mrs. Jean Grey-Summers.

Oh, she would feel the revenge of a girl done wrong (or gone psycho—pick one).

Before anyone got any wise ideas, Bobby-Jerk _had_ to be a chaperone to New York City because Professor wanted a senior with us just in case we ran into trouble (not to mention Bobby-Jerk had the intellect of a kid like the rest of us at times). Oh yeah, like we had to go looking for trouble. Trouble usually found us (I think the X-Men actually had an ad in the paper for it _to_ come). Adam was coming to endure the same thing Chris was going to have to put up with but Adam was there for D-M.

As we piled into the car, Adrian came running at us full speed from the house, Chris asked if Bobby-Jerk could just peel out and leave the psycho boy in the dust. Bobby-Jerk sighed and said he couldn't, he'd made a New Year's resolution not to 'peel out' at least not while in _Mr_. _Summers'_ car (I took the keys, _Mr_. _Summers_ didn't actually know).

"You have _got_ to let me come with you! They're making me sit in on the training sessions with _her_!" This boy had embraced fear and her name was Julie. "Come on, _please_? She's threatening to cut me open and pull my tongue through my neck!"

"Colombian necktie, girl's got taste." I looked back at D-M who just shrugged and gave that smile (the really creepy one), "Read about it once."

Bobby-Jerk exchanged glances with me as I mouthed, _'creepy'_.

"And why should we have mercy on you, Spineless?" Chris, again in his bad mood, snapped. "Running away seems to be in your blood."

Adrian didn't make a happy face, and then did what I already knew he would do-ignore Chris.

"Come on, please? Xavier is going to use me as the guinea pig."

Adam snorted, but instead of doing anything else, I moved into the middle of the front seat since the back seat was full.

"Get in then."

He smiled gratefully and jumped in the car.

I felt like a sandwich because my wings were squashed between two guys (and the rest of me) and then I had Adam's knees in my back because his legs were so long. This was going to be _such_ a fun trip.

"So is everyone in this car going to Prom?"

"Not me," Adrian grumbled, staring out the window.

"Why not?" Adam innocently asked, D-M snorted and said that her very good friend Nikki-Jo dumped his behind because K'yo asked her out.

"Didn't that happen to you to, 'Mr. Drake'?" Chris probed. Bobby-Jerk grunted in response.

I had to say it again, this was going to be _such_ a fun trip.

* * *

"It looks like the one you just tried on! What's the freakin' _difference?_?" Chris was ready to throw a chair at me as I stuck my tongue out at him and told him the other one's color was rose and the dress I had on was clearly _dusty_rose. Bobby-Jerk laughed, Adrian started to beat his fist against his forehead and Adam smiled.

Smart boy.

In reality I already had a dress. I was just going to wear the same one Mr. Warren bought me for that big shindig thing I went to with him. However, it didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy irritating the guys.

"What do you think?" D-M asked, spinning around in a dark red dress. It was defiantly more of the 'adult' than the 'teenager' type (meaning seductive, not cute). "I have to wear it for two different things."

"Like what?" I pulled off the 'dusty rose' (which was actually the same dress as the 'rose' I just made up the difference to annoy my future 'date').

"I have the prom thing and then Dr. Hank invited me and Adam to a medical banquet of some sort." She gave me the odd smile. "I think this one will do. They'll be all sorts of people there, doctors, professors, and, of course, the media."

"R-right."

She was _really_ creeping me out.

I continued to try on the same five or six dresses to mess with guys' head but then decided I would break the dress news to them by walking out with nothing (no _dress_, not nothing _on_). D-M paid with a certain credit card that I took and Chris was ready to drown me in the food court fountain when I told him I had already gotten a dress earlier.

"So you did this for what? Revenge?" Bobby-Jerk guessed as we sat in the food court eating junk food to our hearts' content.

"Now you're getting it!" I smirked and he rolled his eyes. Adrian didn't say anything and Adam was off in space somewhere (probably doing a math formula for _fun_ in his head).

* * *

Crossing my arms, I added to my defiant look by glaring at the car as if I was going to blow it away with my Kookie-Vision.

"Kerry, you're being difficult." _Mrs. Summers _announced.

I didn't move.

"Get into the car," _Mr. Summers_ ordered. "Do I have to literally twist your arm?"

Normally I would be freaked out when he got into that 'thou-art-ticking-me-off-royally' voice. They couldn't really twist my arm, or use their powers—we were in front of my school after all. They came to check me out around lunch to make it to my appointment with the professional psycho.

_/Do I have to start with threats?/_ _Mrs. Summers_ asked in my head, which was weird because I thought my blood stopped her from doing that, but I guess I wasn't as on edge as I thought.

"Like what, _Grey_?" I was being a brat. My logic? If they were going to send me to a head doctor, I had better act the part.

"Early morning monitor duty for a _month_, extra training sessions with Miss Frost when she comes, and you'll be the one to aid _Julie_ in her training," _Mr. Summers _threatened. It definitely got my attention, but didn't get me to move. "And you'll never get your license."

_Dang it!_

* * *

Once at the doctor's office I had my arms tightly crossed, my wings were _so_tight against my back that I thought I'd make them go back where they came from (they were under an image inducer) and my face was set so hard a gargoyle looked cuddly in comparison.

Oh, yeah, it was Wednesday.

And, yeah, I was in the freaking psychiatrist's office!

_Argh_! This was not fair and after I left Sunday dinner I did my best to completely avoid _Mr_. and _Mrs_. _Summrers_. When I happened to run into them, I didn't talk to them, even when they had the _nerve_ to talk to me. I just gave them the nastiest look imaginable and wanted to throw something at their heads.

My team was confused as to why I was acting strange, but did they ask?

_No_ way. I trained them to fear the almighty Kookie. It took a year or so, but they knew fear now!

Back to where I was, which was in the office where I was going to find out what was wrong with me (although nothing _was_). I'd have gone in here kicking, screaming, and cussing-to make it look like I actually belonged in here if it wasn't for the whole vehicular freedom threat. Although knowing that the fit pitching would have completely embarrassed those who brought me to this place was a hard temptation to turn down.

I didn't belong here. So my life was confusing, _big deal_. Did that mean that I had to be committed to a different funny farm _besides_ the X-mansion?

So, there I sat like stone on her couch as this 'Dr. Frese' smiled at me, tipping her head from one side to another (in an attempt to look like a trustworthy dog). If I couldn't get out of actually _going_ to the shrink's, then I'd do the next best thing (no, that was not to endanger my life or _Mr_. and _Mrs._ _Summers_) but to sit as unhappily as I could and _not_ talk.

Unless this lady was a mind reader, she wouldn't be able to say anything about or to me.

"So your name is Kookie?" Okay, so she _could_ say something to me.

And, duh, my name was Kookie; it's on her folder wasn't it? I hoped they didn't send me to an illiterate doctor! How trust worthy was the medical world?

And why did they call what doctors did _practice_? Couldn't they get it right? I didn't want them to "practice" on me; I wanted them to get it right! Not that there was anything wrong with my mental health thankyouverymuch!

"Scott and Jean are your adoptive parents, correct?"

I rolled my eyes. Whoops, I promised myself _no_ language of any kind (even body) that might be used against me and have me declared incompetent in court. Instead, she just smiled and wrote something down (probably a prescription).

"I see you're from Washington and you came to New York about a year ago." Thanks for the brief recap of my life, gee, I felt so much better. "You are also a mutant?"

_Red flag!_

Dr. Frese only smiled at me as my eyes became big and my mouth slackened for a second before I caught myself and resumed my previous cold status.

She put the clipboard down, flipped her red hair (no wonder _Mrs_. _Summers_ wanted me to see her, they shared hair color) and smiled at me (_again_). I wondered if she was related to Barbie?

"Don't be so amazed, Kookie. I am a trusted friend of the headmaster of your school." Uh-huh, little did she know that the 'headmaster' was also not on my nice list. He supported this idea. "Is that were your problems started, when you discovered you were a mutant?"

I was pleading the fifth.

"I'm sensing some aggression on your part, Kookie."

And I was sensing some stupidity on her part! As if my 'aggression' wasn't obvious! But instead of saying anything else that was obvious, she just continued to stare at me.

I glared out the window.

"Kookie, I really want to help you, but you have to trust me." My eyes rolled again and I sighed deeply. "I want to be your friend."

I shifted my bored look over to her face. Yeah, right, she wanted to be friends with Professor's _checkbook_. Or someone's checkbook, I wasn't sure who was paying for this endeavor.

Dr. Frese's smile was dwindling after a few more minutes of silence.

"Kookie, how can we get to know each other if you don't talk to me?"

I didn't _want_ to get to know her, and I didn't want her to know me. This was like rent-a-friend or something. For an hour the shrink was your friend, then after that they said 'make an appointment'.

"Are your parents in the waiting room? Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable opening up if you had one or both of them present." More comfortable? Right. More comfortable to blame them for most everything that has happened.

Dr. Frese got up and called for _Mrs. Summers_ to come into the room with me. _Mrs. Summers_ followed the request, acting all nice and sweet, but I was fuming. They talked a bit and then it became official gossip when _Mrs. Summers_ sat down on the couch next to me.

A couch with no arm rests. I was _so_ tempted to push her off…but then again they'd probably sedate me and throw me in a nice white room with padded walls. They might do that after a while anyway. Perhaps it would be cheaper rent?

No more early morning training sessions with Wolverine!

"Tell me Jean, why did you want Kookie to start seeing me?" Oh this was going to be rich.

_Mrs. Summers_ wasn't surprised at all by this question.

"I really think it would help her with her—unique problems." Then Dr. Frese instructed _Mrs. Summers_ not to tell _her_ but to tell that to _me_. To tell me why she wanted me here. Like a good little patient type person, she turned in my direction and waited until I stared her in the eye. "Kookie, I know you don't want to be here, but I—_we_, Scott and I, think this would help you come to terms with your issues."

"What type of issues do you think your daughter is having?"

_Ack_! Acid! 'Your daughter' never sounded so bad.

_Mrs. Summers_ cleared her throat and started, "For one, Kookie isn't very open."

Not for lack of trying from Sabertooth.

"All her friends want to help, but she doesn't tell us when something is wrong. From what I see, she buries and keeps whatever it is locked away. I'd like to help her with her problems and try my best to give her what advice I can."

_Whatever_!

Every time that I have a problem someone _else_ tried to solve it for me. I didn't want that! I just wanted to be able to rant and get it off my chest without any one trying to 'fix it' or 'make me feel better'!

"How do you feel about that, Kookie?"

At least it wasn't that 'do you want to talk about it' line. But after a few minutes of silence (wasn't this hour over yet?) Dr. Frese asked if _Mrs. Summers_ could bring _Mr. Summers_ in and return to the waiting room.

_Mr. Summers_ was instructed to do the same thing that his wife did, starting with why I had to be here.

"I think-you just need someone to talk to." That was it. No more, no less. Dr. Frese didn't really like that answer because she prodded with an 'and?' and _Mr. Summers_ said that was all.

"Hasn't she confided in anyone about anything in her past or her present?"

I paled. My eyes flew to Scott, he couldn't tell her about my dad! He _couldn't_! That's the _only_ thing 'personal' I'd ever told him! With those dumb glasses I couldn't see if he even gave me a side-glance!

He couldn't tell her! I felt tears prick, oh man! I couldn't wuss out now!

"Is there something wrong, Kookie? You seem upset."

I snapped, so much for promises to myself, "Whatever I confide in people is none of _your_ business."

"You're upset, good, now we are getting somewhere." Crap. Man, I didn't want her to get all psychobabble on me. "Mr. Summers, you can go sit in the waiting room again, Kookie will be out shortly."

Peachy. Just what I wanted to happen. Me and her alone again. I would continue to call him _Mr. Summers_ in my mind, but he didn't say anything about my dad, so Scott was okay now. At least for the remainder of the afternoon.

"That was dirty," I said in a low tone as I glared at her.

She gave me a self-fulfilled smile (the kind I couldn't stand).

"Was there something you were afraid your Dad knew?" My heart dropped. "Do you even trust your parents?" Which set? The dead and crazy set or the mutant body builder set? "I would like to explore this at a later date, Kookie."

Did that mean I had to come _back_?

* * *

It was finally Friday! Thursday I spent trying not to hurt myself every time the word 'open' or 'talk' was spoken. But now- now I had a rather embarrassing thing I'd forgotten about. I remembered the first dance, and although I technically could _not_ dance to save my life, it would still be nice to _fake_it if I had to… without my 'unique' problem interfering.

But my problem was _unique_, and I had to find another _unique_ person to help me with my situation.

I hunted around the mansion for a certain blue guy who could help me, I hoped. When I did find him, he was laughing it up with Mr. Jean-Paul about some goofy business thing (Mr. Warren was laughing; I didn't think Mr. Jean-Paul was really that thrilled).

"Uh, Mr. Warren?" This was _so_ embarrassing.

Both men turned toward me.

"What can I do for you, Kookie?"

I started to interlace my fingers and pull them apart (nervous action), "I-uh, sort of have this-uhm, _problem_ that I noticed."

Completely blank looks.

Great, now I was going to actually have to explain! Why couldn't Mr. Warren have telepathy? Every other mutant did!

Sighing I really wished Mr. Jean-Paul would leave.

"It's something—personally _odd_." My terminology needed work - this was painfully evident.

It was _his_ turn to be weirded out, "Maybe I'm not the one you should talk to then, maybe one of the women-"

"It's not like that!" Why did _every_ guy automatically jump to the conclusion it has something to do with 'female talk' when the word 'personal' was used in a conversation? "It's just-unique to-me and you."

Light suddenly dawned on him. "Oh, the wings. What about them?"

I fidgeted again; this was embarrassing because it was like asking your mom for your first training bra or something. "I was told there's a-harness you use…."

My face turned the color of a ketchup bottle, and he laughed.

* * *

"So what's the big deal about a gym that's stuffed with students, balloons, and a DJ?" Chris muttered after we'd been at the 'prom' for about an hour. We were seated in the middle of the valley of tables' right next to the dance floor (D-M's choice, not ours).

"The guys are actually wearing deodorant?" I offered. He snorted.

I was in the dress Mr. Warren bought for me and my wings were stuffed into a harness that he also gave me. It was amazing that my wings were flexible enough that I only looked like a hunchback (without the image inducer) and I hadn't knocked anybody with my wings. It was a nice feeling to feel slightly normal again.

But back to the dress, Scott about had a heart attack and started to point up the stairs as if he was going to tell me to change, but _Mrs. Summers_ actually came to the rescue. She said I looked nice and she loved the color. It matched my eyes.

Well of _course_ it did! It was the Dress Lady's power!

But I wasn't going to tell them that (about the lady being a mutant) or they might try to recruit her.

All their uniforms could match their eyes, how special would that be?

I digress. I never knew what it meant when someone said they 'drank in the sight of so-and-so' but I learned that night. _He_, I think, did that. _He_ couldn't even say anything as I just stood on the steps smiling for the pictures with Chris before we left (not my idea, this was D-M's wish to have a billion pictures of us all together and looking happy).

My plan was still in full motion because I was probably going to make him regret ever treating me like taffy.

"Why aren't you two out there?" D-M asked, poking me in the arm. "You need to _dance_ at a _Prom_." She crossed her arms and tried to glare at me. I deadpanned her with a bored expression. "Go on, Chris. They've already read the senior prophecy, you _have_ to dance! It has like, what, an hour left?"

"With _her_?" He said, nodding toward me. "She'd crush my feet, _again_."

"That was _your_ fault, you jerk-face." I reminded (he was talking about our stomping competition at the 'Welcome Back; dance oh so long ago). "Although I _did_ win."

"Right. Sure you did."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"Maybe it is, I bet you haven't improved _any_ since then."

D-M was long gone by then.

"Fine, then get your butt out of that chair and I'll _show_ you I can dance, Sparky."

"Fine then, just remember I never _asked_ for this."

We got out on the floor just as they put on a slow song; there was, maybe, a hair of space between the couples (there was like a _foot_ between me and Chris). It felt weird to actually be allowing him to have his hands on my hips; it was _freaky_. Butterflies were having a rave in my stomach as Chris, for some reason, pulled me closer to him.

And suddenly I couldn't get his voice out of my head when he (through sheer, massive amounts of blood loss) said he liked me (probably thought I was Daisy or someone else). I felt a slightly familiar feeling that I couldn't really place, but before I could break it down and analyze it, my mouth started to get me in trouble again.

"It's hard to believe that a short while ago we were almost—well, dead." So I had this natural block against intelligent conversational topics.

He rolled his eyes but with a, dare I believe, softly amused smile. "Yeah."

I shot one eyebrow up."You were more talkative, and nicer when you didn't know what you were saying."

"Really?" Oh boy, "What did I say? And don't lie; you're pathetic at it-among other things."

Laughing nervously to try and derail the upcoming fight I was predicting the truth would bring about. "Nothing of importance."

"Come on, what could be so bad? Did I confess undying love for Bobby or something?" Chris was in a good mood. Why did I have to bring up _this_ subject? Then my sight blurred, there seemed to be a haze coating my vision. I guessed it was the bright lights.

"Actually, it wasn't Bobby and it wasn't 'love'." I smiled at him, the haze thickened to a foggy consistency but I wasn't spazing out and claiming death. Something was majorly wrong and I was taking it as smoothly as a cat on silk sheets. "And I know you don't mean all those nasty things you say to me."

He went rigid.

When his eyes met mine and for one second the little voice in my head was screaming something wasn't right. Too bad that little voice had a heart attack and died because it didn't say anything else after what happened, happened.

Chris' eyes became slightly tired looking and then with plenty of time to move _away_ instead of _toward _he ki-I ki-we kissed.

No, I didn't say anything wrong, we actually did.

His lips moved against mine and my eyes slipped shut. I tilted my head to a marginally different angle to allow him better access. What was even _worse_was I didn't pull back the second my mind caught up with my mouth.

Suddenly, though, there was an image of another smiling face, of someone I really cared for-_him_.

My heart snapped my mind in half and commanded me to step back, which I did, wide eyed and slightly dazed (the song was now over so moving _quickly_ off the dance floor was no problem). Chris didn't offer any apology or explanation and neither of us looked at the other. My face was turned down and I felt tears prick my eyes. I just pulled the same crap that _he_ might have with his would have been girlfriend.

But it had felt _good_ while doing it, even though I knew it was wrong. Screwed up wrong. Teen drama movie wrong!

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" My attention left my feet to see an 'I-rule' grin on _Julie's _facethat had her hands behind her head, feet crossed at the heels on the table, and leaning only so only the back two legs of the chair were on the floor. Where the heck did she come from?

"I was bored with the stuffed shirts, so I decided to come to the party see if there was anything worth seeing." She kicked her feet off the table so she could cross her arms and look at us over her sunglasses. "Apparently I should have brought my camera." Julie smirked and captured me in her mischievous glinting eyes, "Of course, you know I couldn't get here by myself, Jealous 'Jack' brought me." I paled, "I don't think I'll be so wretchedly bored anymore."


	62. Crash and BURN!

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 062**

* * *

I ended up crying for most of the night when I finally made it back to the mansion. After Julie had very arrogantly and happily passed on the interesting piece of information that 'Jack' was around I looked up to see him storming through the crowd. I forgot Chris and ran after Jack (why was it _me _who usually chased?). It wasn't like I couldn't understand why he was upset, _I_ was upset!

Why did I _do_that?

I just wanted to make him jealous! Make up for the time he was fooling with me with his woulda-been girlfriend not to completely lose his trust and blow it forever!

Only thing I heard was his car door slam and then I saw his car peeling away at lightning speed. The tears were already starting to come down. I couldn't go back in and face Chris and there was no other way home but to walk (I could fly, but then the entire school would know what I was).

I had blindly walked around the outskirts of town when a car pulled up to me and in the tearful and self-loathing state of mind that I was in it could have been an UFO and I wouldn't have cared.

The passenger door swung open and there was Adam staring back at me.

"Get in."

And that's how I got home, _Mrs. Summers_ was there, waiting to ask how it went but instead of a smiling girl, she got a weeping one who ran past her and to my room. I couldn't face anyone.

I spent Saturday in my room just hitting myself in the middle of the forehead for being so _dumb_. Then there came the ever-popular knock on my door, I didn't answer, and I knew the person couldn't get in because it was locked.

"Blyt," It was Scott's voice, it was the only reason I considered opening the door. "You missed the Danger Room session with your team." It was Cyclops' words that made me change my mind about unlocking the door. "You have your aviation lessons in half an hour, be there."

I picked up Stitch and threw him at the door. My stuffed animal was more hurt than the door, and I was even more ticked off at myself for being such an idiot. Not only with 'Jack' but also with Scott, who apparently didn't see me as anything else but a little soldier-in-training.

But it didn't seem right; he didn't blab what I told him to Dr. Frese. I just really wonder if Blyt and Kookie are one and the same to him, or are they two different people? Is Kookie Scott's adoptive daughter and Blyt Cyclops' trainee, or was I just another student who took his name?

I stared out the window; Miss Ororo apparently wasn't in a good mood either. It was pouring outside with thunder and lightning. It had been going steady for about three hours (since I woke up maybe before, what did I know?).

Hiding in my room until I rotted away to a skeleton (okay, _bad_ reminder of my 'package') -then there was another knock on my door.

"Kerry?" No, I was just a bat on occasion and this was my cave. I had the tights, I had the 'darkness' down, all I needed was a butler and about five billion dollars (not to mention a sex change) and I'd be Batman.

Kookie-girl. That would be my new name, or better yet, _'Idiot_-Girl'. Hey, if _Mrs. Summers_ got to be 'Marvel Girl' (ego booster, which I'd mentioned before) then why couldn't I describe myself as well? Why she didn't call herself 'Busty-Girl' I don't know.

"Kerry?" Oh right, the person at the door. For some strange reason it was not anyone I would have expected, it sounded like Mr. Bishop. "I know you're in there." Well, Duh, except for the ice cream shop, where the heck else would I be?

I wasn't going to move, but then I remembered he was the 'future' guy and could probably tell me about how my messed up life was going to turn out. Kicking the covers off, I went to my door and unlocked it, walked back to my bed and sat down. Mr. Bishop took the hint and slowly opened the door (the hall lights blinded me since I didn't have any lights turned on in my room).

His face was not soft with any type of emotion; it was the same unreadable mask of indifference. This was going to be a lecture. I knew it. I could _see_ the words in this guy's eyes. Oh goody.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, trying my hardest to keep my broken heart out of this.

"You missed the training session." Gee, and here I thought I had amnesia and just forgot about it. Why was everyone so confoundedly interested on whether I got kicked around in a 'big shiny room' anyway? "The Professor arranged a special session for you. With me."

"Is this punishment or something?" I asked with my voice low and my head lowered.

"That would be training with _Cable_." And then he left, I half recognized the name, but didn't dwell on it too long. "It'll be after your aviation course."

This day was just getting better and better.

* * *

I couldn't be a tighter ball of flexed muscle if I was in the Strongest Woman contest. Why I didn't suffocate was a miracle because I was barely breathing. You see, the X-Men way of training for piloting was to put two students in the simulator since there would always be a pilot and co-pilot for the Blackbird. They paired me off with Chris.

The flight simulator was tiny and shrinking. It wasn't actually Blackbird size, just had the same equipment and blinking lights with little meter thingies. Every time Chris (who was in the pilot's chair after I tried clawing my way out of the door with no success) had to touch a control in the middle console, I jumped, and nearly fell off the small padded chair. He didn't look at me and I didn't look at him. We were too smart for that.

"Blyt, you need to calm down. This simulator isn't going to actually fly."

I knew it was meant to comfort me, but Phoenix wasn't helping. She was one of the ones who were talking on the radio (we were learning that as well) and instructing us from time to time. I about lost it (meaning screaming in protest) when Chris had to reach over to flip a switch on _my_ side of the invisible line I drew between us.

"What's your problem?" Shockwav finally spat out, "This is business, Blyt. So get over your claustrophobia."

I wasn't scared of tight spots, just of tight spots with a _boy_ I kissed the night before that I didn't really _mean _to kiss.

After I was released from the torture chamber, Phoenix told me to go get D-M (they tried not to use telepathy too much, it disturbed people). I was more than happy to knock over Mr. Kurt and Stacey as I ran past them to Daisy's room.

I shouldn't have been in such a hurry; I was booking it up the stairs when I ran into _him_. I felt like dirt. Even worse than dirt, more like slug slime when I caught the look in his eyes. He did the same thing to me, so why should I feel guilty? Because Chris was right next-door to me would be a good reason or because _he_ said I had a thing for Chris which I thought was bogus (and I still did)…. or something.

Also, I didn't know if he actually lip locked the other girl.

Not being able to do or say anything, we passed one another in silence.

Any anxiety that had bloomed when I met up with _him_ went out the door after I walked into D-M's room. Shock must have been clear on my face as she looked up at me and asked me what was wrong.

"What happened to your room?"

"I redecorated," she answered flatly. Well, duh, you redecorated! There were still some boy bands and stuff on the walls, but there were also newspaper clippings from a few years ago and a large picture of a body (the ones you saw in a doctor's office).

"Why?"

"Dr. Hank suggested Ah start taking my powers more seriously. To read medical boring books and all that other, like, boring and dull junk." Like totally (sorry, figured Valley Girl lingo was appropriate). I told her about why I was here, and she was getting ready as I slinked over to her closet (I was a glutton for curiosity and taking a chance at getting caught).

The thing on her dartboard was missing. In fact, there was a large poster of a singer in its place. Why'd she take it down?

Since D-M was most likely taking her time with her hair or whatever, I went exploring in her journal. At least that's what I thought it was, it was on her bed and had a pen sticking out of it. Picking it up, I flipped through some of the pages.

They were nothing but a list of injuries. _Our_ injuries. From when Adrian hit the base of Bobby's skull, to the time she healed my face from when I got shot, and then the latest ones from out group bout with Sabertooth.

Of course I got caught.

"Nosey, aren't you?" D-M, now dressed as Kia, pointed out. Thankfully it was in her sugary sweet tone. "Since you see it, it's my journal to know what I have stored up in my body."

"Uh, right." I said we were going to be late (me for Mr. Bishop and her for _Mrs. Summers_). There was just something that didn't sit right with that missing dartboard picture. Why would she take it down? Obviously she felt strongly about that particular oddity. So why take it down?

Maybe I should be _happy_ she took it down.

* * *

The next day, Sunday, I was trying to remember _why_I was such a lover of pain in a house full of sadists.

"I hurt," I muttered as I tried to pick myself up off the Danger Room floor. I thought _Scott_ was a hard hitter when I had weight training and leadership class with him. Mr. Bishop was more of a techniques guy apparently. Trying to teach me to read body language and keeping opponents off guard.

He had called it a day but the Professor _hadn't_. Since I missed the morning training session yesterday, he had me in with _Julie's_ training session as well.

Oh joy, the girl whose fault it was, in part, that Jack was no longer talking to me (and I was nursing some pretty deep cuts to my heart).

Apparently I was supposed to 'assist' Julie in her training (can anyone say 'lab rat in skin tight clothes?'). The rest of the team had convenient excuses. D-M and Adam were still in the flight simulator, Adrian was threatened if he set foot in the same room with Julie she'd make him a permanent nervous wreck and Chris would just probably fry her if he got annoyed.

"It's time to begin," Professor instructed, as we sat in the middle of the Danger Room. Julie was wearing sunglasses and the same self-pleased smirk on her face (it was permanently like that I believe). "Blyt, I want you to focus on one emotion. Julie, please locate and decrease that emotion."

One step away from the intrusion of a telepath in my mind is an _empath_ in my emotions. I focused on my annoyance at the whole situation and Julie snapped something about every one picking the same feeling around her. Then something strangely familiar happened, my sight began to haze.

Oh my battered little body. Why didn't I put it together _sooner_?

Number one rule of trying to kill someone, _don't_ warn them.

"You. Are. So. _Dead!_" With a scream and a clumsily climb to her feet, Julie took off out the door after I lunged at her.

"What's the meaning of this?" Professor demanded as I rolled into a crouch after the failed attack, and felt a growl rise in my chest as I flew (not literally) after Julie.

It meant there was going to be one less mouth to feed tonight, Prof.

I booked it through the sub-basement halls, anger flashing in my eyes, and skin dissolving away, to black. Julie left an easy trail; there were people in the halls wearing surprised looks as they plastered themselves to the wall.

Hadn't put it together why I was trying to _kill_ her?

The _haze_. It was the same type of haze I had seen before I _kissed_ Chris and made a _bigger_ train wreck of mine and Jack's on again, off again relationship! _She_ was the cause! That little emotion-hacking Brit!

"_Blyt_!" Came someone's not-happy voice, but I was so blinded by what I had in mind (of what this _girl_ did and what I was going to have the pleasure of _doing _to _that_ girl) that I barely registered when I shoved Northstar into a wall and _hard_.

"Why you -"

"Stay _away_ from me," I ground out, picking up the pace when I heard my soon-to-be-victim's voice.

"You're supposed to be some type of _heroes_, well damsel in distress! _Save me_!" She was just outside of the elevators (I took the emergency stairway) on the main floor (first floor, _whatever _I was ticked off and not caring about technical).

"Save you from what?" Oh goody, she ran to the 'daddy' of mine. Maybe I could start showing off what I'd been learning.

I didn't warn her as I charged from the doorway, tackled her, and went sliding down the hall with her shirt tightly gripped in my tightly, clenched hands.

"_Me_," I seethed in a voice that would have made a holy man start pounding me with his Bible to beat the demon out of me.

But that wasn't going to happen until I beat the living breath from _her_.

"_Help me_!" She screamed, but before I was able to put one upset finger on her throat, she flamed me with her fear.

It sent me for enough of a loop that she managed to wriggle out from under me and take off running again. The moron ran _up_ stairs instead of _out_ of the doors. Of course, once I threw off the fear she sloppily laid on me, I tore after her again. Scott was shouting at me to stop but I was a psychopath on a mission.

She did everything to try and get away from me but it wasn't enough. I was far more skilled in this area than she. Julie slammed Gambit into the wall and squeezed between Paige and Miss Rogue (I kind of sent them into each other as my wings hit them both pretty hard).

Julie ended up trapped.

I took a flying leap at her again, and once again, slammed into her at full force. The breath got knocked from her as she connected HARD with the wall.

"_You,_" I hissed out. One hand tightly tangled in her hair toward the front of her head, the other pinning her shoulder to the wall. She actually lost her 'I'm-too-cool-for-this-place' attitude and expression. Julie was _afraid_. I was _ticked_. Her fear was just what I needed.

"W-wot did I do?" Her voice, for once, was humbled and small sounding.

"_You_." I slammed her unforgiving against the wall. "_Know_ what you _did_."

"_Blyt_!" Sam yelled, "Let her go!"

He tugged on my arm, and I freed my other hand and did something stupid, I curled my arm back and punched him. It was his upper breastbone with my super strength having kicked in and sent him flying backwards.

"Friday." I twisted my hand holding her hair viciously, jerking her head to the side and causing her to whimper. "It was _your_ fault."

Her backbone grew slightly; she smiled darkly.

"Not so." I knocked her against the wall again, her teeth clanking together, and I warned her not to lie. "I'm _not_ lying to you, you dumb yank." I growled like an animal. In a whisper she added, "I can't make emotions appear that weren't already present."

There was a very _long_ list of things I never wanted to experience while I was at the mansion. Being body slammed by Wolverine was in the single digits (dying was number one) and it wasn't any more fun than I expected it to be. He took point seven seconds to slam into me, grabbing me around my waist, and pinning me once we came to a rough stop after skimming across the carpeted floor.

I tried to buck him off, still not in a real clear state of mind.

"Knock it _off_, kid," he warned as the others started to appear from nowhere, even the ones who had been in the sub-basements. "Don't make me _hurt_ you."

Dr. Hank and _Mrs. Summers_ were checking Julie and after a few minutes I got around to being myself again and Wolverine slowly let me up (_after_ Julie was escorted away). I shook my head, fighting back tears of annoyance and frustration.

I wished I never looked up because there were two people who I automatically picked out in the crowd as it thinning. _Him_ and Scott. _He_ was no surprise to see turn around and leave after a soft shake of his head.

But there was Scott, the man who no matter how upset I got, was still my number one father figure. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could tell. He just walked away, never asking why or if I was okay. Not even the dumb 'do you want to talk about it' question.

Nothing, but pure disappointment.

Disappointment in me.

I punched the floor after everyone left.

Good thing there was a carpet, I hit the wooden floor so hard, that I created a noticeable crater in it.


	63. Trying and Error

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 063**

* * *

Two weeks since prom and I still felt like dirt (but only dirt so I _was_ getting better).

During those two weeks I had been thinking (which was always dangerous for me) and I began to wonder if _he_ felt this bad or was it just a 'girl thing'?

Though I had to admit I had never been doing better in school. According to the report card (the one I got a few weeks before prom, but decided not to mention it because it was just a bad memory waiting for a moment like this to be drudged up) I got, I was still failing Bobby-Jerk's class, passing P.E. (big deal! Anyone could!), and doing average (Bs) in the rest of my classes. And now?

I was like a girl possessed. I was trying to get my grades up for the finals and final report card. Why might one be so dedicated to the boring and useless facts of life?

"Don't let your training time interfere with your schoolwork. Education is important." Of course that was the cropped-to-just-the-thesis-statement version of the speech (_not_). That was all Scott said when I finally got around to actually giving up my report card (about a week ago).

And I still had that image of Scott, after I tried to hurt Julie (mostly her pride I think, while I got badly banged up due to Wolverine), and that look of complete let down.

Did he have any idea what that's like?

So I had been bugging Adam at every turn trying, to get him to tutor me. As it stood, he helped navigate me through the basic science lessons (which the lazy teacher tests us over but never actually _taught_ us), Western Civilization was just a bunch of dead guys doing a bunch of outdated stuff, and so on. He was so patient with an idiot.

This meant a lot more late nights, like staying up until one and then getting up around six. I had to study since we only had about a month of school left (thank you!). It was now Sunday, two weeks and two days since I kissed Chris and totally blew it with _him_.

What about everyone else I plowed through when I was on my seek-and-destroy mission? They were all fine, kind of annoyed about being pushed around, but okay. Some of them said it was a common occurrence when there were teenagers in the mansion. Age made for an irreplaceable excuse!

As for Chris and me, he hadn't said two words together to me since we started our 'flight lessons'. I stopped trying to crawl through the roof every time he moved in the cockpit and I actually got to play 'pilot' for a few sessions.

I was currently stuck in my room with my Business Math book opened and notes from Alexis and Adam explaining everything to me _in_ the book. I checked the clock and almost screamed with joy as in about ten minutes I would have a valid excuse for quitting for a while.

Those pesky flying lessons were never so loved!

* * *

"Check your gages," Chris, who actually was talking to me, pointed out for the millionth time in eight minutes.

"I know."

"What about the fuel? Is there enough?" We were in a _simulator_! It's not like if we didn't have enough we'd fall out of the sky or anything! This was our first time without _Mrs. Summers_ or one of the other seniors telling us what to do. We had to 'play' fly for about an hour without any assistance.

They moved fast in the X-Men.

"Yes. There is." I was getting irritated with him treating me like an idiot.

"What about altitude? We don't want to get too low." Chris paused, not looking over at me, "You do know what the altitude is, don't you?"

"_Yes_. I. _Know_," I bit out, glaring from the corner of my eye at him. Was he _trying_ to pick a fight?

"Why so touchy?"

I held back a smart aleck reply, though it was a really, _really_ good one, but I was too busy being pushed out of my comfort zone with his 'touch' statement. Bobby-Jerk came on the radio-communicator thing to say they were going to cut the radio link so we'd be 'dead' in the 'air'.

For the first ten minutes, there was nothing but an uneasy silence.

Then Shockwav sighed as if exhaling his last breath. "We have got to stop acting like this."

I was playing innocent though I knew exactly what he was talking about (or wanting to talk about).

"Acting like what? Fake pilots?" I shrugged. "If we did that then our fake plane would crash."

Chris rolled his eyes and actually looked over at me.

"You _know_ what I mean. Acting like we are two junior high kids."

Technically, I was a Junior and in a 'high' (high school, but he wasn't being very specific). No matter what I wanted to say or think, my dumb face started to turn this lovely bright _red_.

"Then can we just ignore each other?" My voice came out a bit smaller than I would have liked.

He faced forward again. "We work on the same team, go to the same school, and live _right_ next to each other. Ignoring is out of the question."

"Who said anything about questions? I think it'll make a wonderful answer."

He shot me one of those 'oh-just-shut-up' looks. "We can deal with this."

What's with all the _we_ talk? There was no _we_, there was Chris and there was Kookie. I had a choice to make at this point of the conversation, either let him control it and take it into what might be unpleasant waters or get the Cyclops in me to come out and be useful. I made my face a mask of stern 'you-better-agree-with-me' and didn't bother to give him a sideways glance.

"I'm glad you agree that whatever happened Prom night shouldn't interfere with our work or school." That just sounded wrong. "I, for one, would be more than willing to forget everything which occurred that night considering we did not act out on our own will, but that of a manipulated one."

You think you'd be shocked by my amazing ability to make mini-speeches, you should have seen Chris face go slack (didn't last long though) but he caught himself and tightened his jaw.

Freedom from the cramped simulator came about twenty minutes later and I leapt out of the room to allow Daisy and Adrian their turn. I thought this was just going to be left behind me and since I had more studying to do, I didn't want to waste time.

"Kerry, _wait_!" Oh goody, it was Chris. I guessed my final statement wasn't so final. I stopped, and letting him know I was clearly not in the mood to talk to anyone (I put on my Cyclops expression in other words). "I- come on, let's go in here." Obviously, he didn't want an audience as he held open the door to the War Room and ushered me in.

Oh man, it was empty. I was hoping there would be at least one other person in there. Being alone with Chris was starting to get too familiar and no less uneasy.

"You cannot just cut something like that out by some a one-sided decision."

"Sure I can, we're X-Men in training, and cutting off people with speeches is what we do. Bad guys monologue, we speech."

"Shove your sarcasm," Chris snapped, "I'm doing the chick thing by bringing this _up_ but you don't have to take the guy role of denying it." He sighed again (was he having breathing problems?) and dropped down into one of the chairs. "You know—I guess."

And I was more than willing to completely forget or ignore his 'feelings' like it always should have been. Why couldn't he just _not_ like me? I felt too lousy at the moment. There was something I wanted to tell him, but behind the Cyclops attitude, there was nothing I could do.

Chris looked up at me; I was standing about five feet from him, unmoving like the big round console in the middle of the room.

"You're not going to say anything, are you?" I didn't say anything (which was predictable) because Scott always said that if you didn't have anything that would resolve the situation to keep quiet because it could make things worse or more confused. "Fine."

Flinging down his sunglasses on the console, he ran his hands through his hair as he huffed out, "What is _with_ you, Summers?" He laughed, "You have, what, three guys hanging off your every word. Well, I guess K'yo isn't doing that anymore and he was just trying to get into your uniform." There I went blushing. "But you have _him_ and-," he looked over at me, and breathed out in a defeated manner, "and _me_."

"Why?" My tone wasn't what I would call 'cold' so much as 'curious, yet demanding'.

"How the hell should I know!" Yes! An irate Chris I could deal with no problem! A serious and emotional Chris I didn't understand or knew how handle. "I guess it was because you were the only one that tried to burn me just as much as I burned you when we met at that dumb 'getting to know you' thing we did last year!"

"You have _Daisy_," I reminded him. It was one of the reasons he asked me to the troublesome prom in the first place! For the sake of jealousy.

Chris look clearly screamed 'idiot' in several languages.

"No I don't. I might have at one point, but apparently it was a dumb move on my part because _he_ took the opportunity to get to you first." What was I? Some type of prize at the finish line of the male ego? He waited a few minutes, and I started to turn toward the door. "Don't you have anything to say, Kerry?" He asked in a dark moody voice.

"Not really, no," I replied and then left.

* * *

"Do I ever get time to breathe ever again?" I asked rolling my eyes and falling back on my bed. My schedule was booked. If I wasn't at school then I was constantly studying or being trained. I had Mr. Bishop for field strategy or something, aviation lessons (various instructors), anger management with Mr. Logan (because of the whole Hurt-Julie-Campaign-rampage thing), and now I was being shoved _back_into the leadership courses with Adrian.

I didn't ask for it and Cyclops was the only one who talked to me. No more Scott, just Cyclops talking to Blyt. This was starting to have me worried and depressed. Turning onto my side, my wings were grateful for relief from being squashed, and I stared at my little blue friend.

Stitch, man, even _he_ made me feel guilty (he as in Stitch not he as in Jack). Jack started this whole mess, not _me_, so why should I feel bad? Okay, so denial was still sloshing through my veins.

Then there was the ever faithful knock and the person coming in.

"Jean told me to give you this." Sam smiled and put Jean's 'gift' down by my feet. After I had punched him, he was sore for a while but he said he'd been put through worse and not to worry. He then deposited the 'gift', turned, and left.

I looked down at my feet.

"What are _you_ looking at?" I asked the creature.

"Meow." It licked its furry lips.

Oh heck no, I jumped to my feet and stormed out the door screaming, "_Jean_!"

* * *

This _cat_ was staring at me.

It was licking its lips and _staring_ at me.

I think they said it was a male cat-well, _used_ to be a male cat. Now it was an 'it'. He was nameless; I was supposed to name him. He was _my_cat. Why did a girl that resembled a raven have a cat in her room?

Because the dumb psychiatrist said I needed something that gave me unconditional love. I wouldn't mind a puppy, but she said they were emotionally shallow and would love to anyone. Cats, normally, required that you _earn_ their love. _Mrs. Summers_ and Scott bought into Dr. Frese's hokey junk and now I was a cat owner.

A bird that owned a cat.

_Great_.

"Mew."

I glared down at the thing that sat at the edge of my feet again. "Dream on."

It licked its lips again.

"_No,_" I commanded.

He started to purr and gave me an 'I'm-eating-well-tonight' whisker twitch. I kid not. He was talking through whisker movement.

This cat was going to eat me while I slept! I just _knew_ it!

* * *

"What's wrong with you girl?" Alexis poked me awake in Home Ec., I guess I fell asleep reading the history book again. "You look tired."

"I look like a trainee." I yawned and stretched (my wings attempted to, but I didn't feel like explaining why Alexis would go sailing across the room).

"A trainee? Girl, don't tell me you're working at a fast food joint." If I should be as lucky to only be working at one of those places.

"No, I just am—training to get into college?" I tried to cover it up, Chris snorted. He still wasn't happy with me. For the past week he'd been a pig-headed little boy who didn't listen to anyone and treated everyone like they were a bug to be squashed. Sadly, I couldn't help but think that _man_ was it good to have the old Chris back!

No one really bugged me too much in any of my classes (except when I kept falling asleep) and as far as I knew, I was doing better in them than I had been previously.

Without the stress of having anyone to look after as a leader (the _cat_ was a different matter), without any romantic interludes (though I still felt bad), and so on, I finally could focus on my schoolwork.

Whoppee.

After most of the day passed away and it was seventh period, I waited patiently (yeah, right) in my desk for Bobby-Jerk to start the tutoring. He had 'stepped out' for the last few minutes of class for the 'nature calls' or whatever and had yet to return. What, he went to frolic in the darn nature?

"What are you doing in here, Miss Summers?" Apparently the frolicking was over.

"What I'm always doing here," I countered in a small voice, "Relearning everything."

"Why?" He asked as he fell down into his seat and looked me in the eye. "You don't have to be here anymore."

"What? Why not?"

He gave a good-natured smile which surprised me, "Because you passed last week's test with a perfect A, that's why."

I didn't know what to feel (or whether I should believe him). "Really?"

"Do you want to see? I'm sure Jean and _Scott_ would be proud."

I felt sick.

"Just show me the test, please."

He flipped through the stack of papers (he no longer gave the tests back after recording the grades since I totally wrecked his grade-book before Christmas). Mr. Drake threw the paper at me, and to my surprise, he was telling the truth! I finally had beaten the business math junk into submission! I was now their mistress! Okay, so that's a bit extreme, but try to understand that I rarely fought numbers so hard. I couldn't stop smiling and being surprised.

"I can't believe-"

"I can't believe you're still hanging around here. Why not go to the gym or somewhere that's more interesting?" He shrugged nonchalantly and pulled out his phone.

I gave back the test, hesitated for a moment, but gathered my things and left.

* * *

"You look happier, is the cat working out? What's his name?" I was back at Dr. Frese's office (imagine my joy). How I could look happy when I was sending off toxic-unhappy waves, I'd never know (or ask, because it'll require talking). She sighed, "Kookie, this is understandable the first few visits, but this is your _fourth_. You need to at least acknowledge you understand what I'm asking."

Sorry-I.Q.-dropping-(with a wicked smile).

She was getting mad; her pen was tapping faster on her clip board. "Kookie, talk to me."

What I had to say, she probably didn't really want to hear.

"Anything?"

Plenty, but you'd never know.

"Why are you set against me?" You're the 'doctor' I thought you were supposed to tell _me_ things, not for me to tell _you_ things. Get it straight.

Dr. Frese sighed.

"You wouldn't have to attend these sessions if you'd agree to talk openly to someone." I refused to become part of the gossip girls. It's just so far beneath me (or right up my alley, I wasn't too sure yet).

Another silent five minutes, before: "Kookie, I'm tired of not hearing you talk about anything." I swore the woman called me an unpleasant name in the back of her throat. "You are being strong willed. Normally that's admirable, but not _here_ Kookie."

"Then medicate me."

Her eyebrows shot up at the comment. "At least you're talking. Tell me, why are you still using your image manipulator in my office? You have nothing to fear by showing me what you really look like."

Uh-huh. So you could have proof I was a head case freak?

"I think your main problem is that you haven't come to terms with being a mutant. You haven't truly embraced your unique gifts." I wanted to laugh. Once you have your skin fall off, sprout wings and wear clothes too tight for a toddler, you'd 'embraced' mutantism to its fullest. "If you want to prove me wrong, then let me see why you need to manipulate your appearance."

I was tired and fed up with this woman, so I decided that this hour would be my 'play time'. With a sweet smile, I shook my head and used the fakest-believable voice I could muster, "I don't feel right about it now. Maybe next time."

Looking up at the lady, a smile of relief flooded over her face. Oh, she was going to be _so_ much fun to 'play' with./p I just had to ask Adam to fix something up for me for my next 'couch visit'.


	64. Filling the Boots

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 064**

* * *

"Blyt, get Chris." Yeah sure, easy for Mr. Boss Boy to say! He wasn't the one holding off a goofy Jurassic Park reject dinosaur. If I left now (which I couldn't because I was holding the dumb thing by the front of its jaws) it would eat D-M or me. I didn't feel like getting plucked from the sky by a robot lizard, thanks!

"I'm _busy_!" I screamed back.

"Listen to her!" Kia added, scampering away. I was starting to feel the strain and bend backwards in a _very_ unpleasant and unnatural way.

"Adam!" Adrian screamed over the comm. link "Get moving! Shockwav needs back up!"

I managed to push back on the dinosaur and jump into the air as the weight of its body and its unstable balance made it crash mouth first into the jungle floor. Sweat was pouring from my face because those that were behind the control buttons believed that the landscape should be as real as possible. Meaning complete with climate control. It felt like we were practicing on the freakin' sun!

Toasted X-Citers, now on cable rated Y7!

Wait, with a name like that, our rating would _not_ be G or PG.

Back to the matter at hand, Adrian was barking off commands while he sitting nice and safe in a tree. Adam couldn't help Chris (who was trying to fry a water-type creature, but only ended up annoying it) because he was trying to either throw off the twenty little critters with two tails that were nipping at him-or he was bonding with them, I couldn't tell.

"Why don't you get your lazy behind down there and _help_?" I asked (none too gently because I did a flying kick to the tree Flex was hiding in, making it fall over).

Not to worry, he was able to jump from the limbs and land safely at the base of another tree. "Was that _necessary_?"

"Ordering us around while you just sit in the tree like some type of demented parrot?" He glared at me harder, "Yeah, I'd say it was necessary."

"You are supposed to follow _my _orders without hesitation."

"Do as I say, not as I do?" D-M asked as the scenery faded away from us and Adam sighed in relief (or sadness) as the little snot monsters with scales disappeared with the exercise program.

Flex went to say something, but before he could, Professor told him to meet him in the War Room as soon as possible (a/k/a ten minutes ago).

* * *

Life would never cease to shock the feathers off of me.

Adrian was standing before me as mad as my new 'pet' cat when I refused to allow it to sleep on my bed (I did the first night and it ended up trying to tear feathers off!).

There was a very small blood vessel popping out over his right eyebrow and his jaw was probably going to hurt in the morning because it was locked so tightly.

His brown eyes were like burning-well, they were burning with some type of 'I'm-doing-everything-not-to-hurt-you' fire.

"What's wrong?" I asked, backing up to the library table. Because my final report in English was due in a week (one week before the finals) I was going to get a book. Apparently I was followed.

"_You're_ what's wrong."

I played the cool and collected, Cyclops girl again (it was becoming a quick transition since I was using it so frequently nowadays).

"You sound like my shrink." I turned my back to him, but stayed ever aware of his location, grabbed the book I was after and went to leave.

He beat me to the door and slammed it shut.

"We have to talk. _Now_." What was-no, this was too good not to say out loud.

"What is _with_ you guys and the sudden overflow of heart-to-hearts?"

"This isn't a heart-to-heart, _Blyt_." Oh he was definitely mad (as if his twitching eyebrows didn't give that away). "This is about you being so stubborn and selfish and making others hurt." Thank you, Mr. Psychoanalyst. "I've tried to make it _painfully_ obvious what you need to do, but for some dumb reason you want to ignore everyone _and_ me."

It's a talent.

"If you're going to use me as a verbal punching bag because you just got your hind chewed by the Professor-then forget it." I started to the door again, but he didn't move and just crossed his arms. I guess he was trying to look intimidating or something. I'd seen this guy in his _boxers,_ he couldn't intimidate me after seeing Care Bears on him.

"You _will_ hear me out."

Oh sure, I rolled my eyes and flung my hands up in the air.

"Fine, have it _your_ way." So I headed for the window. I had wings, why not use them? Because apparently Adrian had been practicing 'long distance' strikes or something. Just as I went to open the window, a _sharp_ blade sped past my face and embedded itself between the window and the frame.

Following the long silver blade back to its owner, I blinked and squeaked out, "You have my attention."

For the first time I actually didn't have a smart aleck thought running through my mind when he told me to sit. Now if he had told me to beg that would have been a different matter completely. I sat down on the couch and Adrian didn't say anything for about ten seconds and then it _all_ came out.

"I don't know how you can be so _dense_, what _else_ do I have to do to make you do what I want you to do?" Speaking in riddles was never a fun thing, but when it sounded like I should be an obedient slave, something was wrong. I went to protest but he cut me off by continuing. "I have screwed up _on purpose_ with the team, Julie, _and_ Xavier. I think Cyclops wanted to blast me through the wall at one time because I would try my hardest to do my _worst_ in his little 'leadership classes'. I've done all of this and you _still_ refuse to be unselfish."

Mind-blown-away...

"Y-you're being a complete failure on _purpose_?"

"Isn't that what I just _said_?" Adrian sat down on the table in front of me (a good five feet away and out of my kicking range should I feel the need). "I don't want to be leader. I never _did_."

"Then why did you take the position?"

"Because you were acting like a baby by not taking responsibility during Hell Week, I really thought you'd fight me when I made those stupid decisions!" He was back on his feet again, pacing around. "Then, when the team _wanted_ you back, you again refused. I blamed everything about Sabertooth on _you_ because I thought you'd see how much I did not want to be the 'head of the team'-it's not worth putting up with all the gripes and stress from Scott and Xavier."

My mind was slowly starting to reform with this new information. Very, very slowly wrapping itself around what he was saying and what he meant.

"So, let me get this straight, you _never_ wanted to be leader and you made us miserable because you wanted me to be leader? Do you realize that makes _no_ sense whatsoever."

His brown eyes rolled heavenward.

"I wanted you to start acting like a leader when we needed you. I have been part of a team, Alpha Flight, and I know how to follow orders-giving them is something I don't like to do. I'm not hard enough."

I was not sure if I was supposed to be flattered or seriously insulted by his little 'you-be-diamond-girl' statement. Absorbing this type of information and confession took me a minute and my tired mind was burnt out from studying and training so much in the past weeks. Shaking away the cloud of shock and sleepiness, "Why don't you just resign?"

"Because I _can't_. Not without someone willing to take the spot. They don't believe in democracy apparently. There has to be a team hierarchy for some dumb reason." Well, duh. If you didn't have a leader and everyone was 'equal' then nothing would be done because everyone would want to do it their way. That was one of the base lessons in Scott's class. _Duh_.

"So you want me to take up the leadership again?" My voice was clipped and straight forward.

Adrian only nodded.

* * *

At school Thursday I trudged along, yawning into the back of my hand as I dropped down in my Western Civ. class. Mr. Poovey was on his personal warpath again.

"I don't want to hear a _sound_ from any of you as I explain this. Do _not_ raise your hands until I have finished explaining your final project. I will only go over this _once_. Most of the information is on your handout so I don't want to see pens or pencils in anyone's hands. Am I clear?" Like we were going to be dumb enough to answer _that _rhetorical question. He went on about the project.

As luck would have it, it was a partner project and, oh yippee, I got stuck with Chris. I think Mr. Poovey got recruited by him, although he never said anything more about prom after our discussion.

We were supposed to write a script (a _humorless_ script) on a major event in history marked on the page. Then we had to act it out in class (something fun in this man's class? I think I was going to sprout horns next! I was _that_ surprised). If all that wasn't shocking enough, the fact he was going to let us work on it in class and actually _talk_ to one another was going to send everyone in cardiac arrest.

"Any questions? Good. Get to work. Do _not_ get out of your desk after you sit by your partner. Am I clear? Good. Go. Be quick and be _quiet_."

Chris dropped down in Adrian's seat as Adrian had to go find his partner, which turned out to be some girl named Liesl. "I guess this means we have to be civil to each other."

"Maybe. What's the thing we're supposed to do?"

I could have checked, but why do more work when I could push it onto someone else? The surprised look on his face wasn't very reassuring, "The Reign of Terror."

"Professor on a rampage? Mr. Logan without beer? Mr. Remy becoming a eunuch?" He glared at me, "Oh the _French_ one. Maybe we can make a little guillotine or something."

"And who do we use it on, genius?"

"My cat or Mr. Poovey, who ever gives us the least resistance." I smirked at Chris' half smile, "Of course in the second one's case, we'd need a _big_ guillotine. A really, _really_ big guillotine."

"_Miss Summers_!" Oh great! Mr. Bat-Ears Poovey! "Get to the office this moment! I'll send your write up in a moment."

* * *

"I can't believe you got called to the Principal's office." I coudln't believe they keep calling Scott and _Mrs. Summers_ to come and talk to the principal, what was I? In fourth grade or something? Sheesh. "_Again_."

Thanks, Scott.

"Calm down, it was just misplaced humor." What was this? Try to kill Kookie by shocking her to death day? "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it." Can't-breathe- "This, Mr. Poovey sounds like a real pain anyway, he wasn't the most pleasant man to speak to." I was dead, that's it!

I grabbed the fabric above my heart and went into a theatrical death scene on the back-back seat (I got sent home for the rest of the day, dumb punishment). I didn't think anyone saw me until _Mrs. Summers_ started to clap her hands slowly, mockingly. The noise had sarcasm all over it.

After a moment I sat back up and stared at the two people in the front seats. I'd been around the mansion long enough to know what a telepathic talk time looked like. They apparently were having one. It was probably about me and I didn't like not being able to eavesdrop on a conversation when I was the main topic/compliant/predicate nomative-whoa, that's the last time _I_ fall asleep reading my English book! There was one sure way to get them to pay attention to me again.

"I want to talk to the Professor."

I could have sworn Scott swallowed his tongue. In the past I usually didn't request to talk to the Professor because I had a problem with his chair (which sounded like it was humming Skip to my Lo) and his office. But they escorted me up there once we reached the mansion; needless to say the Prof had prior warning to my coming (thanks to Jean, who, after fighting on my side a few minutes earlier, deserved to be called Jean again).

"Is there something you wanted to discuss, Kookie?" No, not really, just thought I'd take in the view of your office once more. He raised an eyebrow at me. Heh, mind readers, they could steal your thoughts but not your sense of humor.

"Actually there is," I took a deep breath and they didn't move. I felt like a mouse in a cage (with them and with my cat, I could have sworn he was making a trap for me to fall into so he could eat me). "I've decided to resume the role of leader in the," gross, "X-Citers. Adrian's already agreed to step down."

A smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his wheelchair.

"That is excellent news, Blyt." I could _see_ the long 3,000 word speech form in his mind; thankfully I was able to cut him off long before he got warmed up.

"_But_," I started, "before I tell the rest of my team, I have one requirement."

His smile disappeared.

"And that would be?"

"Boots. I want _real_ boots for my uniform."


	65. Graduation

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 065**

* * *

"Want to tell me again what we're doing in the _sewer_?" I asked as I picked my booted feet (_Yes_! I got boots! No more fairy-booties) from the muck and back into it again. My wings were green (not literally) because even _they_ were so disgusted!

"You took over as team captain for your group; your training is field ready," Cyclops pointed out as he swiftly made his way through the dark sludge. "Didn't Flex brief you on this mission? He knew about it in advance."

Naturally, I jumped to conclusions. "That jerk! He probably didn't want to give up the leadership position; he just didn't want to go sashaying through the sewer." I felt something bump my leg and my stomach lurch. The smell was permanently in my hair, feathers and mouth, or so it seemed.

"Focus on the mission at hand or you're going to give Scottie an ulcer." Bobby-Jerk-Iceboy mentioned. Easy for him to say, he was 'icing' himself over the mysterious brown/green goop _I_ had to walk through.

Good thing it wasn't Super Bowl Sunday, we might have to have _swim_in this-this-well, you know.

"Why are we down here anyway?"

"To make sure you never have another date until your thirty," Iceman popped off.

"This coming from Mr. Eternally Single, oh, I'm hurt." He stuck his tongue out, I would have done the same but I was afraid that there would be a splash and I'd end up eating it. Then, then I would just want to die (by cutting off my tongue off).

"Kids," Gambit teased as he walked past me. Why was I the _only_ female with a bunch of hyper active males that liked to blow things up? Wait, I knew! I was their babysitter, yeah, that's it. And I didn't get paid by the hour for it! "You behave now, non?"

"He started it," I grumbled.

"Mature move."

"Iceman, Blyt, keep it down." Cyclops' voice told us he wasn't in the mood for humor. "And we are here to rendezvous with Cable about a certain situation which is occurring in Genosha and also because there have been reports of mutants, again, living in the sewers. It's too close to the mansion for my ease."

"Who are we meeting?" And was he part alligator or something? The name rang some bells in the back of my mind, but no clear picture was developing.

"Your big brother, _chere_." The guy with white hair from Christmas? Oh man. "Tall, white hair, carries a gun-"

"Not to mention a serious bad attitude. Sort of like Scott, but ten times as serious."

"Why all of us?"

"Just in case we ran into trouble and for you to get accustomed to the conditions we sometimes have to work in."

As long as the guy wasn't around, "What kind of regular person makes a meeting in the _sewer_? The Ace Plumbing guy?"

"A person who has no desire to be spied on while conveying important information."

My luck was holding steady at _bad_. I jumped (creating a splash which ended up on my upper legs-ugh) and the guy in blue stepped from the shadows. Cyclops turned and walked to him (and got in front of me) Gambit and Iceman followed. "Nice to see you all again, I wish it could be under better circumstances."

"Or in a better location," I grumbled under my breath. Four pair of eyes turned to me. I laughed nervously. "Nothing."

I _really_tried to pay attention but the Cable guy started to talk in another language known was 'techno babble', popular with computer geeks, agents of mass destruction, and digital media majors. My job (self-employed of course) was trying to prevent my mind from wondering exactly what was passing by my feet and why I didn't demand full, rubber body armor.

"…they have a precog, so it won't be easy." Cable went on to explain. A precog? What was that? The time before the toilet got clogged, clogging?

_/It's someone who sees into the future./_I froze as my iced over blood withered in my veins. It was 'big brother's' voice in my head-he was a telepath? Glancing up at him, he didn't even cast me a confirming eye. I thought I was going nuts for a while before the mind voice popped in once again.

_/You're tired and your guard is down, you better fix these problems, Blyt, before you go back in the field again./_

Oh yeah, he was _definitely_a Summers. I wondered if I was going to become super cynical?

_That_ caught his attention enough to look up at me.

_/Those things that keep bumping into your legs?/_ I cringed at the question, _/Water snakes./_

I freaked.

"_What_!" I screamed and poor Mr. Remy never had a chance to blink as I jumped on his back. He lost his balance and we both went down (completely) into the green bubbly slime.

Worst of all, we both went down with our mouths open.

* * *

I had been in the shower for a good forty minutes. My shampoo and conditioner were both emptied and I _still_ wanted more. I couldn't believe I fell in _sewage_, ugh, maybe I should join my other team member when they leave. Ick. Before we left the nasty place I had shed my skin three times and then once more when we got out, all in an attempt to try to get the _rank_ off of me.

Mr. Remy was _not_ a happy guy and as punishment _he_got to shower before me. There was no way the female wing was going to allow me to get this junk off in their showers. I had emptied two bottles of soap and scrubbed my normal skin raw with a bar of soap.

As for that supposed mutant sitting stuff in the sewer, it was a bogus lead. Scott was upset and I and Mr. Remy were busy trying to _not_ die and I thought Bobby-Jerk was going to laugh himself into a coma.

I couldn't wait to get a toothbrush and every available tube of toothpaste into my mouth. After that, I was going to gargle about ten gallons of mouth wash.

* * *

My first final was the next day and graduation was Wednesday (not mine, but Chris'). I was not looking forward to that week. Sure it was only four more days until summer freedom, but it also meant I was going to lose a team member.

I was wiped out because I had been studying so hard. There was a lot more than numbers and past participles to think about (and the F I got on my project by the devil spawn, Mr. Poovey because I made fun of him). So I decided to take over the Rec. Room TV for a while. Not to mention the dumb cat kept walking all over my books and plopping its self right in the middle of what I was reading. Dang creature.

Some news channel was on, and because the remote had walked off somewhere and everyone knew that actually getting up and manually changing the channel was _so _retro, I just watched.

It was mostly blah blah blahing, but then something interesting _did_ come on. "Das, the teen pop superstar has been reported missing. Her record company says they have been searching for their number one hit maker for close to three months…"

_Das_? Oh man! I _loved_ her and they _took_her? Whoever the heck 'they' were. Then the anchorperson went on to talk about mundane things, I was upset. One of my favorite singers missing!

Oh well, at least she didn't end up in the X-Men.

That would have been creepy.

"Hey." I craned my neck toward the door to see Julie coming in; D-M was hot on her heels. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" I asked, D-M flopped down on the couch and seemed absorbed in the nightly news. "I thought I scared you."

Julie rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. That's the first time I can remember noticing her red leather fingerless gloves. Taking a quick mental stroll down my memories, it occurred to me that she _always_ wore them. Wonder why?

"I'm not scared of you. You're not trying to strangle me at the moment, so-"

"So?" I asked coldly. She asked if I could follow her out to the hall, I sighed in annoyance but went. "Make this quick." It was _so_ Cyclops of me, but oh well.

She twisted her mouth into an ugly frown, "I'm _not_apologizing." And that required me coming out here? "But-I did 'flame' you without-"

"Thinking? Consideration? Realizing you'd die for it?" I finished for her in a clipped voice. She cringed, but her back bone was strong and she cocked her head to the side.

"Wotever. I just wanted to clarify something with you, is all. When I said that I couldn't manipulate something that wasn't there-I was telling the truth. But I didn't tell you everything, I don't know why I am now, maybe because I don't like to be around depressing people when their bad 'vibes' can seep into me." I hiked an eyebrow up at this. She was being little Miss Open all of a sudden. My Kookie-Sense was on red (high) alert.

"Why tell me this?"

"Because I've been told I'm going to 'ave to work under you, and I'd rather not die." I smirked, Julie _was_learning. "Your 'affections' could have been toward anyone, just to let you know. 'opefully that will be enough information to keep you from-"

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by a shrill scream and D-M storming out of the Rec. Room. Julie rolled her eyes and scampered back upstairs.

I looked back into the room; the TV had a clip of some news about France playing. Did Daisy have something against the French?

To chew over the rest of the information given to me by my new 'team member' I flopped back down on the couch and flipped the channel after Trish Tilby (yes, manually) started to blab about the weather forecast or something (maybe they should call here first to see what kind of mood Miss Ororo was in).

I found an interesting movie, 'Bridget Jones' Diary' and ended up vegging out in front of the TV until the end.

* * *

It was Wednesday and I groggily looked up from where my face was plastered on my Western Civ. textbook. I knew I had to be like, spectacular on this test or I was going to be in some spectacular trouble. I already had an unstable grade with Mr. Poovey since he flunked me on the project.

Wednesday, fateful Wednesday.

When my eyes met the clock face, my feet met the floor as I sprung up to them.

"_No_!" It was eleven-o-eight, and I was _late_! In fact, I _missed_ my test in Western Civ.! Oh man!

I ran around as quickly as I could and when I fumbled my way downstairs, I bumped into Cyclops on my way to the door.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in school."

"Drive." I breathed out, "Need drive, now."

Well, it took him three seconds to grumble out a complaint and head toward the garage. On the trip up to the school, the lecture began.

"I can't believe you would miss one of your finals, Kookie. What were you doing that you overslept?"

"Studying," I replied with a yawn.

"Why didn't you do that earlier? You don't need to be playing around when you're still in school. Especially during your finals. Got it?" I wanted to fight back, but I was tired. It had been three weeks since I got more than five complete hours of sleep in day. The reason I was tired was because I was pushing myself in school and with my training.

I only overslept once! Sheesh!

After running through the usual late-check-in procedures with the office, I took off toward Mr. Poovey's class. It was around lunch, so I knew he wasn't doing anything important. Busting through his door while I was out of breath would have been a bad idea, so I caught my breath _before_ I busted through his door.

"Mr. Poovey?"

He glared at me over his sandwich; I guessed he still remembered my little remark about the guillotine.

"Miss Summers. It's lunch. I don't take visitors during lunch."

"I know, sir," boy did that sound funny, "But I had to tell you that I missed-"

"Your final. I know, but I am _not_ going to give it again," Mr. Poovey stated firmly. I should have figured the big beast wouldn't allow any pity. "You missed it. Too bad for you. You can leave now."

I gritted my teeth, turned on my heel, and stomped away down the hall toward the cafeteria. I so did _not_ like that guy!

* * *

Back at the mansion that afternoon, Chris and the others were blasting his type of music. Mr. Logan made himself scarce saying he wasn't thrilled about a constant ringing in his ears.

Chris, of course, was graduating today and they were going all out for him. There was a huge cake bought, several gifts, and more stuff. I was happy for him but sad because I was going to lose someone else pretty soon.

Adam's room was completely silent, which was a pleasant relief from the blasting voices and banging. I walked in, since he wouldn't be able to hear me even if I knocked.

"Hey," he said peeking over several large boxes. His stuff was almost all packed up. I dropped down to where he was sitting on the floor. "Whatcha doing?" I asked, poking at the silver crown looking thing.

"Working on something D-M wanted." He picked up a screw driver and started to stab the little thing again.

"Did you get the image inducer finished?"

His grin grew as he looked up at me. Reaching to the nightstand behind him, Adam opened the drawer and produced my spare image inducer.

"All finished," he announced proudly, dropping the little stick device in my hand, "Popping puss pimples and all."

I smirked and tucked it into my jeans pocket. The pleasantries were over.

"Why do you have to leave?"

Adam stopped his tinkering, looked up at me and gave a weak smile, "Because I can't do this. I wasn't meant to."

I felt tears starting to form behind my eyes.

"But you don't know that for certain. You don't have to leave."

The eternal sweetheart Adam was, smiled.

"If I'm wrong, I'll come back, promise. I just—don't think I can handle this lifestyle. It's so wicked _you_ can." I cringed, "But after the Sabertooth ordeal, I realized it wasn't just some high tech video game, it was _real_, and people _die_. I got scared."

Trying to not let him see what was behind my fake smile, I said an 'okay' that came out weaker and more broken then I would have liked.

"Besides, you're not rid of me until after the F. M. R. fundraiser."

"The what?" Something rung a bell.

"Foundation of Mutant Research, it's a charity party Dr. McCoy invited Daisy and I to. Surely she told you about it."

"Yeah," I replied flippantly, "but-ah, never mind." I was sure I had heard that before-but where? Probably wasn't important, my memory rarely was.

* * *

It was time for Chris' graduation.

The whole 'X' family took up two bleachers (though Mr. Remy offered, quite nicely, to let Miss Rogue sit on his lap, she called him 'Sewer Rat'). I was like the great divide between the X-Men and the X-Citers. _He_ was sitting beside me and I didn't know whether to feel a small relief, or weird about it. Jean, though, felt enough for the both of us as she shot us a warning glare.

The graduation wasn't anything spectacular just a bunch of speeches by the smart kids and oh, the one funny thing was that when they went to play the graduating class' song, someone switched 'Letting Go' with 'Another One Bites the Dust' and got the whole class laughing. And then the principal went into his 'threaten everything' mode about how irresponsible it was and boring stuff.

I was still tired (exhausted really) and without thinking of anything in particular, I leaned my head on _his_ shoulder. If I had been anywhere near well rested I wouldn't have dreamt of doing something like this, but not even Jean seemed to notice (_I_ barely registered it).

When Jean _did_notice, she made a face and sent my weary mind a thought.

_/A bird and fish can fall in love, but where will they make a home?/_

My reply was automatic, meaning I didn't think about it.

_/On the grill at the local restaurant or in the mansion with the rest of the freaks and weirdos./_ And, hello! Whoever said the 'l' word? We weren't even a _couple_!

She rolled her eyes, and I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up, lost my balance, and ended up looking up at Mr. Jean-Paul whose lap I landed in, needless to say, he was _far_ from amused. When we were walking down the bleachers, I almost tripped, but this time I bumped into Scott whose ever elevating eyebrow rose as he helped me to my feet.

"Are you okay?" Jean asked, I nodded my head 'yes' and went to met Chris. Then we went back to the mansion, I couldn't even celebrate with them, I was too afraid I'd flunk my last final which happened to be English. I fell asleep in my books again.


	66. Flower in the Pain

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 066**

* * *

I'd be laughing my wings off if it didn't hurt to breathe.

Man, how could I have been so stupid? Why didn't I see it coming? Hadn't it been building for months? I could look back and kick myself now for missing all the signs.

Why didn't I realize it? I couldn't believe the amateur mistake I made!

* * *

_There was definitely something to be said for anger management courses._

_Mr. Logan might be the strangest one to get them from, but he knew what he's talking about when it came to 'seeing red' (and, no, I didn't mean Jean). Why did I think he was so good?_

_Because during the Danger Room run earlier, my team could have blown up the entire scene (and _did_ thanks to Chris) and it didn't faze me. Julie wasn't around so they couldn't blame her (though Adrian still did) for 'mellowing' me out. D-M was smiling slightly at the end of the session as she looked at the demolished hospital-guess she didn't like shots or something._

_Professor's words went in my head, rolled around there, and then went straight to the 'trash' icon in my brain's computer. Cyclops even stopped one of the run downs of a mission I had to go on to ask if everything was okay._

_So I was a little tired, what's their point?_

_They thought I was hiding something because I'd been spending more and more time in my black skin then in my normal color. Mr. Warren also was starting to preach again about the importance of 'our kind' keeping healthy by eating a lot of protein since we didn't have any body fat to speak of-blah blah boring._

_What was wrong with these people? Since I'd gotten out of school (four days ago!) they'd not been happy with my appearance and actions._

_Not like anything was wrong-okay, I'd confess I was exhausted and even Jean noticed my thoughts, though quieter, were being heard which should be impossible since my blood deflects telepathy to some point. Like if they wanted to read my mind, my brain would implode and try to kill me. Not now._

_But they weren't trying to please the Lords and Ladies of the Eternally Deranged._

_Especially Scott with his new catch line of, "Since you're out of school, you need to focus on your training and team work."_

_I felt like plowing him through the nearest window, but the anger management courses came thumping on my mental door telling me to forget it. I was trying to work past my anger, to logically think out why I get angry._

_Well, let me see. I had been doing everything imaginable trying to please my 'father figure' and all he could tell me was that it's not good enough. So what did I do? Try even __**harder**__ just to hear the same thing, it's not good enough, I needed to try harder, or I have more potential than that._

_And Mr. Logan expected me to keep my anger in CHECK?_

_Riiiiight. It'd be in my check in to the mental home._

_But it was Saturday, and it was the first day of June as well! In six days D-M and Adam were going to go to a big medical party thing, and then that following day Adam was leaving. I really didn't think it would bother me, but surprisingly, it did._

_I guessed I got attached to him somehow always being around, like a geeky big brother with killer eyes. Adam was sweet and smart, a bit messy but creative minds rarely were neat._

_Still I hadn't told anyone about his soon departure (although the boxes multiplying in front of his door should was a pretty obvious hint). _

* * *

Then I saw a slight shadow shift from where I was curled up in a ball on the floor. I couldn't believe something like this happened to me! It only happened to dumb girls and yet there I was in pain and in remorse for not catching it sooner.

Thinking was blurry and painful, but I saw something reflecting slightly from underneath the bed. I tried to open my eyes even more, but the light seemed to jab and twist daggers into my pupils. I clenched them shut and the migraine thumped against my brain again.

This was punishment...for not realizing...for being an idiot...for being cruel to that dumb head doctor.

* * *

_"Are you finally ready to let me see the true Kookie Summers?" Dr. Frese asked eagerly. I wanted to start laughing, but I was afraid she'd inject me with something or catch on to what I was up to._

_It was with a faked smile I nodded just as enthusiastically._

_"But," I added innocently, knowing that any noise would send Scott and Jean clambering in here, "Could you lock the door? I just don't feel safe doing this while there might be an intrusion..." I smirked as she nearly tripped over herself to run to the door._

_Once I heard the lock click, I told her I was ready to turn off my image inducer, but not to turn around until I felt comfortable. Dr. Frese agreed wholeheartedly and somewhere in the back of my mind a ghost of a guilty conscience arose to ask me if I really felt okay with all this?_

Heck yeah!

_I flipped off my normal image inducer and clicked on the one Adam tweaked._

_Then, in a small, shy voice (if I talked any louder I would have ended up laughing between the syllables) I told her to turn around._

_Why did I never have a camera when I needed one?_

_Her eyes must have hurt growing that large in their sockets; her mouth opened into a lovely 'o' of fear, as she plastered herself to the door._

_"What?" I asked worriedly. "What's wrong?" Then I started the fake tears. "I thought you said you'd understand!"_

_Well, I guessed if I hadn't asked Adam to create an image projection of a five foot six and a half inch, green/gray blob with huge zit like things which popped and fizzled over, not to mention I had my face distorted so one eye seemed to be hanging by a muscle outside of its socket and the other one had a noticeable film covering it. As I walked to her, trying to keep up the sadness without busting out laughing, I opened my arms wide. _

_"Can I have a hug for support?"_

_Then Dr. Frese started to scream._

_She turned back to the door, unlocked it, and ran from the room. In a heartbeat I switched images to my normal Kookie-without-wings look and tried my best to look baffled when Scott and Jean came thundering in the room._

_I could hear Dr. Frese screaming for them to get me out of her office. As they looked over at me, I put my head in my hands and faked the best crying scene I could. _

_"I thought you said she knew! I turned off my image inducer and she freaked out! How is she supposed to help my self-acceptance?"_

_Scott looked ticked, Jean eyed me suspiciously and I carried on with my faux sobbing and such._

_Guess I wouldn't be seeing Dr. Frese for a while!_

* * *

Yeah, this was what I got for being mean to the doctor and probably made her lose some of her patients. If I caught the one who did this—well, she'd have a new patient soon enough, that was for sure!

I reached out blindly toward the lump of clothes under the bed. An idea formed in my thoughts and a hope in my heart. If I was right, which I rarely was, my salvation was in this article of clothing. I hoped I wasn't wrong and it turned out to be a pair of underwear or something.

That would be disgusting, and why the heck was I cracking jokes at a time like this?

Oh, right, defense mechanism.

Defense, defiance, death-man, I had to do something I couldn't stand to have _another_person die! Not when I could stop it!

* * *

_It was two days before Saturday (which would make it Thursday, duh) and I was supposed to be on a mission. I had spent the previous night chasing my "adorable" fur ball around because the dumb cat has an underwear fetish that just wasn't normal._

_How many people do you think I wanted to know about my Stitch underwear?_

_Not to mention I was still sorta tired about the whole 'write evaluations on your team' assignment._

_The only time I got to get some shuteye was when we were on the plane headed somewhere to do something (I kept zoning out during the briefing). Of course, no one permitted an exhausted girl to actually sleep._

_"_Blyt_!" I woke up with a jolt, only to see a Cyclops' pink eye staring back at me._

_"Y-yeah?"_

_"Pay attention. Northstar, Angel, and you are going in at this direction..."_

_If I was going to be paired off with those two, then I really didn't need to pay attention. Mr. Warren went over the maneuvers even _**after**_ we had all been told (I guess it's because I had such a short attention span that he knew he better re-tell me before I tripped an alarm or blew something up). The Blackbird landed and I got out of my seat, stretched and yawned. Maybe if I wasn't so tired I would have been a bit more excitable about this whole affair (not to mention I might actually have cared in the near future about something-doubtful, but it could happen!)._

_"You three, go," Cyclops whispered as Mr. Je-er, Northstar started to run toward wherever the heck we were. Mr. Warren-I mean, __**Archangel**__ and I took to the sky. I was slow because, again, I was tired. I could care less about doing whatever we were doing to whoever we were doing it to as long as I got a nap at the end of it._

_"Blyt, you need to focus, one slip and you could end up-"_

_"Shot?" I finished in a dry voice._

_He nodded and pointed toward the compound. _

_"You take the west watchtower; I'll go to the east. Northstar should be working on the rest."_

_I nodded and started to pick up speed, the only problem was I had no idea which tower was the west one. I waited until Mr. Warr-__**Archangel**__ hit his tower, and then I went to the one directly opposite of it._

_There were two guards with guns (asleep) and for a split second I had the thought of joining them in their trip to dream land, but Scott would be ripped if I did that. 'Sorry I got caught, but they had a free chair...'_

_Shrugging, I moved to the first guard's side, but something wasn't right. My boot squeaked. I froze. I really didn't want them to give them a better chance to shoot me than necessary._

_Neither of them moved._

_I looked down at my boots and got confused. These shoes only squeaked when wet-hmm, guessed I knocked something over?_

_If they ever told me how to knock out a person who was already asleep, I didn't remember. So in my exhausted, illogical mind it seemed like a good idea to wake them up one at a time and __**then**__ knock them out. Going to the first guard, I almost lost my balance (I guess I was really tired, but I shouldn't be focusing on that-if I could focus on anything). I tapped him on his shoulder, no movement. I figured he must be a heavy sleeper._

_Sighing, I shook his shoulder, but still nothing._

_Irritated, I went to slap his cheek but I halted as soon as my fingertips brushed against his face._

_It was stone cold._

_That's when I heard Archangel's voice crack through the comm. badge, "The guards in the east tower are dead."_

_The lights flickered on, and I started to back up toward the window I had come through. There was blood all over the floor, and both guards were white as flour. Oh man, dead bodies. __**Two**__ dead bodies and I was in there with them!_

_"Meet in the courtyard." Came the ever-unaffected voice of Cyclops. Trying to shake off the shock, I continued to back up to the window; taking in that the only things that were wrong with this room were the two dead guards (...did they have families? ...daughters?) but of course, my luck was horrible if anyone hadn't noticed and I slipped._

_Their blood was everywhere and I slipped in it. It took a split second for me to scramble to my feet and take off out the window. When I met up with the others, there was coolness (as in distant not awesome-cool) in everyone's attitude. Was this how the X-Men reacted to things?_

_Turned off their emotions and go robot?_

_"Blyt, you're covered-" Iceman started._

_"I-lost my balance," I confessed sheepishly. Apparently all the towers were full of not living people. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand erect because this was __**so**__ creepy and unnatural. Who would __**do**__ this? __**Why**__ would they do this?_

_"Where's Northstar?" Rogue asked. That got us all looking around; Cyclops tapped his badge and called for Northstar to respond._

_There was only static. _

_"Beast, get to the computer system, copy the files, and then destroy it. Rogue and Storm, you're his back up. Everyone else find Northstar! __**Go**__!"_

_I jumped into flight. Gambit, Archangel, Iceman and the others were going in every other direction as I headed back to the way we came. Mr. Jean-Paul was fast, so maybe he went back to the Blackbird after seeing the whole compound was filled with nothing but zombie wannabes._

_Then I saw someone moving along the outer wall of the compound, I went into a dive, and then I just went into pain. I didn't get shot, but I wished it had been that simple. Instead I went crashing into the rocky ground, getting cut up pretty badly along the way. I thought for sure that my black skin would be able to handle the minor fall._

_But as I lay on the ground, my black skin started to show every minor cut and bruise. Funny thing was I couldn't get up. My blood was on fire and I thought that a pyromaniac had attacked me. I felt a foot nudge my side and then roughly kick me over. _

_"Here's another one," someone almost purred. "But it's another X-man. I guess where you find one there are bound to be about ten more." I remembered a fist at some point and time, I saw it balled and then __**bam**__!_

_Out went the lights in Kookie City._

* * *

Why couldn't I have just stayed unconscious? Why did I have to wake up? Why didn't I just stay asleep for a few moments longer?

My fingers gripped the armorish-leatherish clothing and slowly, I drew it toward me. The tears of pain slipping down my face and into the vomit the migraine had caused. Yes, I was lying in a puddle of my own throw up; I didn't care at that moment. I really didn't mind it at all. My brain was being jack-hammered so nothing really mattered, well, except calling Scott.

He had to know!

* * *

_"You looked like you tried to make out with a speeding train." D-M stated as she slowly absorbed all the little nicks and bruises. When Gambit found me I was propped up on my elbows cursing headaches in general. They found Northstar much in the same state, only he was further inside the compound._

_Everyone at that place was dead, Professor said my mental shields were painfully tight (meaning if he tried to scan me, I'd be in more of a hurt). He wanted to see if the assailants could be recognized through my memory. All I had a clear picture of was their knuckles (which I thought would be indented on my cheek as well)._

_"Ah'm almost done, and then you can run away to your hole in the wall, just like Chris," D-M muttered. After about ten seconds she pulled her hands away, wiped her forehead, and smiled at me. "Thanks that should help."_

_I quirked an eyebrow. "I thought that was my line." _

_She laughed at me and I gave her a smile in return._

* * *

Yes! The badge was on the uniform! I thought it might be! Heck, I knew my team well enough to know that none of us were neat freaks. I had yet to hear a story were the bad guy refused to fight an X person because their uniform was wrinkled.

I pulled the badge through my up-chucked dinner and brought it as close to my mouth as possible. I could hear the clicking of someone's heels and it was as if they were ramming their stilettos in my ear cavity. Swallowing whatever was available to swallow in my mouth and throat I tried to speak, but it came out as a broken whisper.

"SSS...ssss...ssss" apparently I couldn't get my mouth to form the word 'Cyclops' so I tried 'Scott' knowing that all the X-Men were down in the Danger Room practicing. Scott was observing them or something like that, so he'd hear me-eventually, I _hoped_.

"SSssss-cccc-" okay, the word was _still_ too complicated.

How was I supposed to get his freakin' attention in time!?

* * *

_My current concern was trying to figure out things about my life. I wanted to be self-centered for a moment and reflect on the recent events in my life—not. Free and down time was what I was looking for, what I got was an annoying knock on my door from Adam. Once I knew it was him, it wasn't so annoying. He came in all decked out for the big party._

_"Wow, you look good!" I smiled, "no wonder D-M dragged you to the prom!"_

_"Yeah, well, speaking of her, Dr. McCoy and I are ready to depart. I was curious if you would be so kind as to go to Daisy's room and call her for us?"_

_I guessed clothes really did make the man, I felt like a bum off the street because Adam went into his 'I-know-lotsa-BIG-words' talk after his simple request. Like a good friend, I agreed and headed over to D-M's room._

_When I got there, her door was ajar, not wanting to walk in on anything, I rapped on the door, but no answer. Shrugging I pushed the door open and walked in._

_My eyes grew in surprise or utter shock (were those the same things?) when I saw her room in an organized mess. There were pictures all over the floor and on her wall she a medical poster of the female body circled in several spots._

_Morbid curiosity was a horrible thing to own because when I examined the poster closer, I recognized the marks made with the red permanent marker. They were all the previous injuries D-M absorbed. This wouldn't have freaked me out so much if she didn't have 'fatality' with a smiley face next to it on the gashes across the chest (from Sabertooth's attack on Chris)._

_"Nosey Posey," Came a sugary voice that made my blood French kiss fear and dance around with a bottle of adrenaline. Thankfully, I was, for now, __**stuck**__ in my black form so she couldn't see my skin crawl. Turning, I saw D-M in the same dark red dress she wore to prom. "Ah'm guessing this means that my escorts are ready."_

_I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Yeah, that's right."_

_She narrowed her eyes at me for a moment and then smiled brightly._

_"Okay! Ah'll be goin' in a second." I turned to leave her room, my mind aching as if there was something that should be clicking but wasn't. There was still a piece of the puzzle missing that wouldn't allow me to see what the final outcome could be._

_"Hey, Kerry?"_

_If I had been hit by a Mac truck, smeared across a wrecking ball later used to smack down Chicago, and then burned in the pits of heck, it would have felt better than what she did to me by touching the back of my neck._

_"Sorry, Ah can't have you running off telling anyone." She smirked, and then it faded. D-M's words were making my already aching head throb even worse as I fell to my knees, clutching my skull. It felt like someone was shooting 100 rounds in my skull with every second that passed. "Forgiveness comes with a debt, Kerry, and Ah haven't been paid yet."_

_I fell over into a fetal position, my wings twitching erratically._

_She turned, and through my blurred eyes, I saw her pick out something from her closet. She gave it a nasty look and dropped it by my face before D-M casually stepped over me and partly shut the door._

_The poster, with the millions of holes from the darts and the words 'Anna Marie' scrawled on top of it, looked back at me. Tears blurred my vision so badly I could barely make out the face of Trish Tilby staring back at me. _

* * *

I couldn't let D-M become a killer! Trish Tilby was going to die tonight unless, by some miracle, I was able to contact someone!

Blood was on my hands from my Dad, I couldn't bear for someone else to be guilty of something like that. From somewhere, I felt my throat burn with the one word that I could muster in a semi-audible voice. Gripping onto the badge until the low red light that indicated it was transferring waves came on, I felt two words leave my throat.

"Dad...die..."

And then I sobbed, "ddd-ad."

I cried out again. Please Scott! Be there! Please!

_Please_!


	67. The Need to Revenge

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 067**

* * *

My throat was raw and on fire, like I'd swallowed gasoline (which would be a blessing compared to the claws raking and digging into my brain, pulling it apart fiber by fiber) and when I started to cough, it didn't help my abused throat. The tears made my already pained eyes sting even more. My ears were screaming and hot.

But then the voice of an angel whispered.

"Kerry? What's wrong? Where are you?" Okay, so it wasn't a _whisper_ but Scott, at that point, was an angel.

I wanted to scream with joy, he found me! They were going to come and help!

"D-d-die," I stuttered out hoarsely across the link. I heard him give the command to get a lock on my signal and hunt me down. Tears of joy were now coming from my eyes (though it was still like crying Tabasco sauce).

How long it took them, I was not sure. I think my body and mind finally had mercy on me and let me pass out from the constant heartbeat of white-hot pain in my brain. What the heck had she done to me?

When they found me, they were none too quiet about it! Bobby-Jerk slammed open the door, followed by Mr. Bishop (I only knew this because of voices in the blackness) and Jean. Heh, Mom came to-never mind.

She's _not_my mother.

"Kerry! Kerry, can you hear me?" _Yes_, now shut-up and stop asking me dumb questions! I winced as I felt them start to pick me up. I moaned and whimpered in pain.

"Good heavens, what happened?"

Bobby-Jerk then added to Jean's comment, "What's that _smell_?"

I felt someone stab my temples.

"Her shields are too tight, and I can't go in without hurting her more." I guessed it was Jean's nails that felt like needles puncturing my skin.

My voice was pretty much shot, my thoughts would require _more_ pain, which I didn't see how I could be hurt any _more_.

Daisy-Daisy had to be stopped. Her logic, in a twisted way, might make sense in her head, but it was still _wrong_!

Adrian and Chris came screaming up to us, they both took one look at me and started another run of questions. I reached out; ignoring the shooting pain grabbed the first person within reach. With my disgusting breath, I opened my eyes that felt like coals, and pulled the person close, "Shut-up." I rasped out in a deep voice.

Chris, who I had grabbed, and the others got the picture as I released him and moaned as my head lulled back in Mr. Bishop's arms.

I wasn't aware of how much time passed since D-M hit me to the time when I re-awoke in the med. lab.

"W-Where?" I croaked. They must have pumped me up on some meds.

_He_ was there.

"The med. hold, how're you feeling?" I felt his hand on my forehead, and the other one cover one of my hands.

My mouth opened, but then I choked on something in my throat and ended up coughing instead. Whatever this guy was supposed to be, right now it was evident he was concerned as the grip on my hand tightened.

Moaning, I closed my eyes and motioned with my hands that I wanted something to write with. He complied quickly and brought me a notebook and a pen.

'Daisy is going to hurt someone. Have to stop her.' I scrawled out, and not in a straight line because I had a hard time focusing. They needed to up my dosage of whatever they were giving me.

He took it, read it, and then headed out of the room. When _he_ came back, he had Scott, Miss Ororo and Jean in tow. Scott crossed his arms, clearly discomforted, and asked me what I meant. I would have rolled my eyes if I wasn't so sure they'd pop out of my head and run away.

I took the notebook again and wrote: 'Need to go to the convention. She's going to die.'

I wasn't being clear on purpose. I didn't want them to pump me for information then take off _without_ me. No matter what, D-M was _my_ responsibility.

"Who will?" Storm asked.

"She's probably delusional," Jean commented slowly. "She was pretty sick when we found her in Daisy's room about half an hour ago."

Tears of frustration took over my eyes, Scott, surprisingly, came to my rescue.

"I don't think so. What would she have been doing in Kia's room? And when she called, she said 'die' as well. Blyt _knows_ something."

Nodding my head slowly, making it seem like I was wrapping a car (my brain) around a tree each time I did so.

"Write it down, tell us," Scott demanded coldly. "If this is some ploy-"

"Hey!" _he_barked up, "Trust her, okay? Why would she go through all this if it was just a 'ploy'?"

'Can't explain, just have to go,' I scribbled down.

"In your condition?" Storm asked in an incredulous tone.

"Perhaps Blyt is correct," Professor? "I have tried to scan for Daisy's psy-signature and have turned up with nothing. Even with the assistance of Cerebro. Doubtless she has a mechanism to prevent psychic attacks, if so, then this is serious."

My eyes shot wider. _Adam_! That intelligent _idiot_! He was the one who designed the mind blockers during Hell Week! D-M even asked if he could make a better version! He was working on something like that before Chris' graduation! Oh my-how could I have been so stupid?

"Get Kurt, Bishop, and anyone else in the mansion. Track Beast's signature and try to warn him about this, whatever _this_ is. He might be in danger."

When we were on the plane, Professor and all, we headed toward New York City. The FMR or whatever's block party, black-tie _whatever_ was being held at a fancy television studio. The one which Trish Tilby worked at for all its worth in the irony.

As we traveled (which sent me into near hemorrhages, only Jean's steadying me with her telekinesis helped) toward the place, I envisioned D-M with Tilby, luring her around. Probably, knowing people, D-M was hyping her ego, trying to convince the older lady that she was a _huge_ fan of the newscaster and if she could ask her some questions and stuff.

Then D-M would cause Tilby to get conveniently sick. Probably a stomach flu or something and tell Tilby that she'd be happy to take her back to her car. Maybe she'd even attack the unsuspecting lady in the bathroom. Somewhere, some way, D-M was a lot smarter than I gave her credit for. She was amazing me even though she terrified me. The way she shot back at Money (Monet? Moonet?) that day should have clued me in to my teammate not being a moron.

"But who she tryin' to hurt?" Gambit asked for the millionth time.

Trish Tilby, the newscaster lady? Yeah, not much associated with the X-Men anymore (this information came from the gossip ring of the X-the reason there was a circle around the 'x' on the badges I figured) because of her bust up with Dr. Hank. Apparently the two had an off again, on again relationship for quite some time, but then she did something stupid. He confided in her about the Legacy Virus and Trish, in turn, made it public news and won an award for journalism! Chris clarified most of this when I was curious (and conscious) enough to ask him.

He said this all through gritted teeth.

I was thinking maybe that was a way for D-M to show she still cared about Chris-by killing the lady who helped make his life a nightmare. Well, his attitude was a major part of it, but I digress.

"We're coming in on the studio," Cyclops stated, and I felt my stomach stay in the air as we landed. I was going to be sick again. "Everyone split up and find Beast, Adam, or Kia. We need this cleared up before anything occurs."

I struggled to stand, but I felt someone start to push me back into my seat.

"Don't even think about it, kid. You'd end up causing more problems if you were out there." Wolverine stated in his 'I'll-tie-you-to-the-seat-by-your-wings' voice.

"He's right, stay here, Kerry, and we'll leave the comm. links open." Jean closed her eyes for dramatics and (I thought) was scanning for D-M or Dr. Hank yet again. "I've got Hank's attention." Her brow creased, "Daisy's not with him or with Adam."

Of course she wasn't! She didn't want witnesses!

"Adam's starting to panic; he says she took the psy-blocker." There was fear in her voice suddenly. I couldn't blame them; I would have butterflies of fear in my stomach if D-M hadn't made me throw them up all over her floor.

"Fine, Flex and Iceman stay here with Blyt; make sure she doesn't try anything stupid." Okay, that was it! Whenever I could open my eyes again he was _so_getting a glare! "The rest of you, let's go!"

Then a lot of banging and hurting of my head later, I was stuck in the plane with the two guys who just _loved_ to give me problems. Too bad Chris didn't stay here or I'd have thought I was in trouble.

The guys ignored me and huddled around the communication board to hear all the 'action'. Disobeying a guy who left about five minutes ago, I climbed to my feet, and made my way to the open hatch. It was hot in here or Daisy had given me some type of fever along with the worst migraine in the history of man (or mutant, whatever).

"We can't find them! Wolverine, any luck?" Mr. Kurt's voice crackled through.

"There's too many flammin' women wearin' too much perfume! It smells like a French whore house!" Then there was a whacking sound and a shrill protest.

"What was that?" Cyclops questioned after the sound went away.

"One of the women heard what I said and beat the crap outta me with her purse."

It would have been funnier if I didn't have a headache and if I didn't get distracted as soon as I glanced out of the door again. There was a red blot following a dark blue blot (not Beast) in the parking lot. _Oh_ man, did I call it or _what_?

Through my sticky throat nothing was coming out as I turned around to try and tell the two guys. They were snickering about Wolverine being beat up by a little girl. Oh sure, they'd take me seriously! Looking back down from the perch where the Blackbird was (on a ten story building sitting right next to the party building thing) I decided to just leave. I would chance the traffic and all, maybe if I got to D-M before anyone else, they wouldn't hurt her and we could say it was just a 'ploy' to see how well the X-Men did or something.

I let go of the side of the hatch and was about to jump when I felt a hand clamp around my upper arm.

"Don't think so. You're in no condition to be flying around," _he_ said, turning me around to face him.

_He_ gave me a steady look, but I wasn't in the mood for this. Threatening might work on a lot of people, but there was something about _him_ that made my threats seem watered down and pointless. Instead of threatening, I went for the begging.

"Have to go!" I pleaded weakly. "She needs me, trust me." I bit my lip, "Please?"

"But," he tried, "You're sick. What if you fall?"

I gave him the best smile an insanely sick person could, "Thick skin, hard head."

He studied me intently for a few quite seconds before letting go of my arm and crossing his over his chest.

"Fine, but you better come back with _all_your feathers intact."

I shook off the nauseous feeling, "Wanna try and stop me?" I questioned the other body over _his_ shoulder. He's hands went straight up into the air in surrender.

On shaky feet I went into a dive from the building and being that blinking made me want to gouge out my eyes and my mind, it was no surprise when the sudden feeling of 'shoot-me-please' hit me hard. Trying to curl into the fetal position while flying did not make sense and it wouldn't allow me to continue flying. I would have started to fall like a little cannonball with wings that were for decoration only.

In fact, a sick and hurting person would have been wise _not_ to curl into a ball and then _slam_ into a car hood. It brought an abundance of pain like Santa brought gifts at Christmas! I felt like a bug who just embraced a windshield driving 100 miles per hour, except it was a hood and I slid off of it, down to the ground.

"Who's there?" Trish asked, at least I was guessing it was Trish Tilby, I wasn't really sure, it wasn't me and it didn't sound like D-M.

Walking was too much to ask of my poor battered body, so I decided to drag it to the voice by crawling on my hands and knees, wings drooped on either side of my body.

Gripping on to a side view mirror, I climbed to my feet. My face was probably bloodied and not looking the friendliest.

"T-Trish, you've got-"

"Miss Tilby!" D-M shouted, "Watch out!" Trish's head whipped around to see the girl in red come up to her. "That's a dangerous mutant! She's a known killer!"

_What_?

"What? Who is she? What's going on?" A true journalist, always asking questions while being fed a line of _bull_. D-M firmly took a hold of Tilby's arm as she continued to spew her junk lines.

"She's insane! She's killed a lot of people!" D-M-was she _insane_? I had never killed anyone! "That monster is in league with people like _Sabretooth_!"

She was a good little actress, I'd give her that. I opened my mouth to defend myself when Tilby said she was going to call the police, but D-M decided not to give me any sort of opportunity to talk.

That peachy perfect princess decked me. It was a cheap shot considering I had to hold on to the car to maintain my balance. I ended up kissing the car's hood again, and I felt my tooth crack.

Groaning, I slide down the length of the car and ended up on my side looking up at D-M for the second time that night.

"Nice try." She smirked and then turned her attention to the woman who had one hand occupied with her cell phone; the other was holding the car door open. The woman should have visited the gym more; she couldn't get away from D-M.

"Your turn," Daisy warned, kicking the car door and smashing Tilby's hand in the process.

Through her tears and cursing, the woman cradled her hand. "Are you _crazy? _What was that for!"

"The same thing Ah'm going to kill you for."

Tilby didn't have a prayer. Daisy reached out as Trish tried to swat her away but skin contact was made.

Idiot.

Tilby turned an unnatural color of pinkish green and then slumped to the side (much like me, see, I was a trend setter!). Small cuts and scrapes started to open up on her face and arms.

They looked like mine, the ones from earlier in the week. I was so confused and frustrated. Time wasn't my friend though, I couldn't fight D-M because I couldn't stand on my own-I was pretty sure I cracked a bone with my beautiful, hood-smashing landing.

Not looking at her I focused on trying to climb back to my wobbly feet. When I checked on D-M over my shoulder, she had dragged Tilby half way into the car.

I leaned against the hood, breathing was hard and my eyesight was shot until who knew when. Gripping the passenger side mirror for balance, and my stomach to keep it from throwing up any important organs I shook my head at D-M.

"Don't."

One hand was raised in the blurs of color I could see. Trish Tilby sat slumped over in her driver's seat; occasional groans let me know she was alive.

Daisy scoffed, "Whatever."

"Don't," I pressed.

"Why _not_?" D-M screamed at me. I winced. "You don't know what this _witch_ did to me!" There was a minor break in her voice. That was a good break because it held sadness, not anger. "She needs to _die_ before anyone else gets _hurt_ by her!"

My eyesight cleared and I could see, through a haze, tears falling down my teammate's face.

"Why?"

She sniffled, never letting go of her victim's arm.

"It would have been perfect, Kerry!" Daisy whispered harshly, "No one would have known it was me. They didn't know it before, they wouldn't know it now."

I tried letting go of the mirror, slipped, and grasped it again. Scott always said to keep the people talking, it kept them distracted. Distraction was a good thing if one was waiting for reinforcements, which I was.

"Tell, Daisy. Please."

Surely they'd figure it out eventually, I did not doubt one of the guys in the plane told on me. _He_ probably freaked out when I crashed.

"Ah was only thirteen," Daisy started, good, this was going to take a while. D-M was sixteen; she was fifteen when we first met. "His name was Jimmy." Her eyes turned cold. "It was my first time and Ah got pregnant. Ah never heard from the guy again."

Oh man, this was about-

"Her name, my _baby's_ name, was Anna Marie." Her baby, the one mentioned in the medical records. "Ah didn't know Ah was a mutant back then, Ah was barely fourteen by the time Ah had her. Ticked off my Daddy and Mama but they were happy when she was born. She was a normal little girl—except her hair was bright pink." More angry tears, her voice kept breaking.

"Then she got sick, before Ah got to take her to the hospital though, this _witch_." She shook Tilby harshly for emphasis. "This inhuman, heartless, money lusting _witch_ told the entire _world_ about the Legacy Virus!" Daisy was seething. "The doctors took one look at my sweet innocent child and were afraid. They were _terrified_ of a _three month old_!"

If she kept screaming someone was bound to hear her and come running.

"They didn't tell me, but they did say they'd take care of her. When Ah went home to get some things for her with my mama—by the time Ah came back—she was dead."

Her teeth were clamped together, jaw set, proof she was reclaiming her anger and not her sorrow. That was not good.

"They said she simply died of SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, but Ah looked at her and they hadn't even _moved_her from where Ah laid her! Ah even over heard them saying that a human mother should be grateful for having a legal excuse for getting rid of a mutant baby."

Daisy took a deep breath, her grip ever tightening on the newscaster's arm.

"Ah didn't have proof and no one would listen to me. But then, then Ah discovered Ah was a mutant when Ah got into a fight at school a few weeks after Ah buried my baby. Ah took the same migraine Ah had 'taken' from my mother earlier that week and 'gave' it to the jackass who had the nerve to call me a slut."

"Ah was able to avenge my daughter." This was making painful sense. "Ah visited the hospital again, went to the Intensive Care Unit, saved all the patients, a group miracle they claimed, and then-then Ah turned around gave those heartless monsters a one way ticket to _hell_ on the most painful routes imaginable. Instant cancer. Instant AIDS. Imagine their surprise."

The black bed sheets, the picture of Tilby, the mood swings and her need for anti-depressants it all made perfect sense.

"They never could convict anyone. And they can't _now_!" She screamed, pushing Tilby's jacket sleeve up, "I have Chris' wounds from Sabretooth, they'll think it was _him_."

I found my voice, though I couldn't find my heart after her story.

"They'll-think it was a -mutant and hate us -even more."

"What's your point, fearless leader?" Still that uncertain shake in her voice instilled me with hope. My breathing was easing as her attention kept to the curious side, I was not sure if she had to make it a conscious effort or if my blood was slowly adapting to whatever she hit me with earlier.

"If-you want _more_negative publicity for our kind, then kill her." She hiked up an eyebrow which showed complete confusion. "But-" I quickly added as she glanced down at her victim, "You don't want to do this."

"Oh, puh-_leese_!" She retorted with a snort. "Reverse psychology doesn't work on me."

"There's no reverse," I alleged, losing the battle with my legs and sliding down the length of the car. I was completely helpless and if she wanted to, D-M could kill me no problem. No witnesses just like she wanted or thought she wanted. "You wanted to be caught. You wanted to be stopped."

Daisy's entire made-up face twitched. "You're _lying._"

My ears screamed at the assault.

"It's true," I wheezed. "You left all the clues, gave all the clues, you wanted to be stopped. You didn't want to hurt anyone else, right?"

Glancing up at my teammate, I saw more and more tears come as she slowly began to shake her head in denial. "No! No! Anna Marie-!"

I slowly gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I know," I confessed in a raspy voice. "I don't talk much about myself for a reason, but I know what you're going through."

She grimaced.

"You couldn't. You're the perfect little girl with your perfect life and parents and not to mention you have -"

"My father was shot, I held him as he died." I looked her straight in the eye. She would only be the second person to hear the truth. I wouldn't have drudged up such a painful memory, or reveal what I was about to. "I know hate."

She let go of Tilby— that was a good sign.

"My-dad died right in front of me because he tried to _help_ mutants or he was thought to be trying to help mutants. That's what his killer said, a killer who never got into trouble for _murdering_ my dad." I gritted my teeth at the memory much like D-M had done. "I hated that man and I hated mutants. I spent the time since my dad's death until the moment when I discovered I _was_ a mutant learning _about_ mutants. The genetic freaks and why they were hated so much and I wanted to kill each and every one of them."

I could hear the shouts of Cyclops, Gambit, and Dr. Hank coming from down the street.

Good, they were near and that meant Tilby's salvation was close.

"I felt like I betrayed my dad by not seeking vengeance on the people responsible for his death. Just like you feel the need to kill Tilby for the death of your daughter, right?" She stammered a weak defense. "You don't want to kill her, but you feel like you're betraying your loved one by not at least _trying_, even if you don't really want to do it."

She broke down and started to cry hard.

"I-I have to!" She bawled. "My baby-!" Dropping to her knees, she continued to cry long and hard. Cyclops came running up to us a few second afterwards.

"Kia!" He screamed, she looked up, and started to panic. My eyes blurred again, but I heard shouts and Cyclops power being fired. I wanted to defend her, to tell them she was just confused, but I couldn't talk anymore. My voice throbbed with overuse and I felt someone pick me up.

"Kookie, you okay?" Gambit asked.

I groaned in reply which would have been translated into 'fine' in Groanish. From the blobs of colors I could make out, D-M was now in Cyclops arms, he made one quick command for all of us, even Trish, to get on the Blackbird ASAP.

I felt nastily light headed, the blackness dancing around my vision, just waiting to swarm in and take me to the land of the black veil.

I guessed the stench wasn't my dried barf in my hair, but Mr. Kurt's teleportation. That's the last thing I remembered, thanks be to the Sandman that I passed out after that. I wanted the whole experience to just be a horrible nightmare and not the truth.

I would have done anything for it to be fake.

Hello, darkness! Your kiss of ebony had never been so welcomed!


	68. Leadership Loonies

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 068**

* * *

I was laid up in the medical lab and D-M was locked up in a cell. They didn't want to chance her trying to 'fix' me since I foiled her plot or some crazy something like that. Apparently D-M had confessed that she'd given me a nasty flu bug (times five) and an inner ear infection.

According to Dr. Hank, I wouldn't have been housed in the med. lab for a week if I hadn't decided to play suicide bomber into a very expensive car from ten stories up. Like that was my choice activity on a Saturday night!

Adam stopped by on an almost hourly basis, always apologizing for anything and every reason why it might be his fault I was in there. He even agreed to stay around for as long as he was needed to help Daisy.

I knew I'd miss sweet and steady (non-psychotic) Adam. Sure he wasn't anything to write home about, but at least he wasn't changing faces, trying to kiss or kill me! But on sad note was that Scott never came by to see me.

Not that this sickness was as major a deal as being shot, but I was pretty banged up and with the unstable mental state of our only healer, I was going to have to wait for my own body to fix all the damage.

Still, he was the one I called out to when I was laying in my own barf, wanting to let my mind drip out from my ears, and scream until my throat went raw. Didn't that count for something?

No Scott, Jean came by, but no Scott. I shouldn't have cared, I knew I shouldn't. After all, the only reason they adopted me was to keep me from a state home, wasn't it? Yup.

That and they didn't want to lose a half-trained soldier to an orphanage.

There was _no_ emotional ties to me whatsoever, nope, uh-huh, _none_!

…then why the heck was I so emotionally attached?

* * *

"Holy crap," were the only words offered by my team. Needless to say those words weren't very encouraging.

Adrian leaned back in his chair with a look of pure shock over his face. Julie smirked, shaking her head from side to side as if she was _amused_ by the whole thing. Poor Adam, who blamed himself for the majority of the event, looked ready to fall over from lack of sleep (I could feel that pain!) because he had redoubled his efforts to try and make up his wrong. Chris, well, Chris' reaction was the strangest.

He didn't say anything (it was Adrian with the 'encouraging words') but instead just stared in front of him at the wall behind me. I guessed he really didn't care too much.

It was my idea to tell the rest of the team what exactly happened to make sure no weird rumors started to flutter around like mad vultures picking at everyone's ears. I was kind of hesitant to allow _Julie_ into the mix, but the Professor said she was a part of the team and should be treated as such (another victim for me).

"Any questions?" My voice was controlled and clipped, just like Cyclops thought a leader's should be when addressing their team about important matters. Emotions only made things worse, like visiting your sick adoptive daughter after she'd been put through hell and back. Heaven knew _that_was too emotional.

"Did you know anything about this before hand?" Adam asked, his voice meek.

I sighed.

"In hindsight, yes I guess I did but in actuality I didn't. There were signs, hints, and so on but nothing that would make me think-"

Adam just nodded as I trailed off.

"How's the news lady?"

"Banged up but otherwise fine. Professor Xavier talked her out of pressing charges, especially after she was given the circumstances leading up to the attack."

"Serves the bloody, heartless witch right. Why'd you stop her?" Julie's question was harsh, but something I think everyone in the room wanted to know.

"Murder is wrong," Chris stated in a low voice, "No matter what the reasons."

"This coming from a mutant man hunter in training, oh that's rich."

Chris closed his eyes as if trying to bury the urge to strangle the annoying child with her own fishnet stockings.

"If that's all, you're free to go. Daisy will not be part of our team for the next few weeks, months probably until-well, until they say so."

Julie shot off another choice comment before waltzing from the room. Adam and Adrian slowly followed, I turned to go, but Chris called me back.

"I knew," he stated plainly as lowered myself back into the chair.

"How?"

"She kept asking me if I wanted to get back at the person who made the Legacy Virus public knowledge. She kept going on and on about it!" He was getting angry, one could tell by his voice and also by the flickering of the computer behind him. "I told her, finally, that I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to be grateful to be alive and she dumped me."

"You really couldn't have predicted what she was going to try, none of us could."

His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but quickly snapped shut as Chris nodded.

I felt just as guilty as he did, but I couldn't let anything show. I wasn't supposed to be emotional. I was supposed to be the rock, the one who didn't cry or care. I was the shoulder to cry on.

But I had to confess, I would have appreciated having a turn as a human being.

* * *

Man, I was nervous.

It was Monday morning, nine days since D-M's stunt and after deeming everyone emotionally calm enough and ready to discuss it, we were in the Professor's office. The 'we' I speak of was Scott, Jean, me, Miss Ororo, Professor, and Daisy-of course.

I walked into the room to see all eyes flicker toward me for a brief second before going back to the Professor.

As the main guy went over the events, _again_, just in case we'd forgotten anything (like we could) that happened. I stood next to Scott and the sitting D-M. Her head was down and there was a silver collar around her neck with a little red light thing which circled the device and 'bleeped' softly at every rotation.

That was some funky looking jewelry.

"You're late," Scott whispered under his breath.

Must be punctual; guess that was another quality I had to add to my list if I wanted to be perfect. Sheesh, couldn't a girl have been a bit busy with the dumb reports they made her do? Scott should be thankful that 'Jack' stopped by to ask for a 'meeting' and then said I was missing one.

My attention was sadly drawn back when Professor began with the 'now how are we going to deal with this' topic.

"It would seem, Daisy, you are not able to function while you have this matter concerning your past."

Jean's jaw tightened but she didn't say anything.

"We believe, child," oh that wasn't condescending, thanks Miss Ororo, "it would suit your best interest to seek professional help at a local institution. A place which we believe would allow you to overcome any problems or feelings you currently have regarding Miss Tilby and the death of your daughter."

Okay, now I was getting upset.

Then the professor piped up again, "It would be for the best. We cannot provide the type of counseling you need at the present time."

Scott remained passive, Jean's face was slowly turning the color of her hair, and I was just annoyed and astonished at the audacity of this guy!

Not knowing exactly what to say, I let my still exhausted mind fall into the fairytale land of make-believe as my mouth took over manning the plane known as Kookie.

"That has got to be the most arrogant load of crap I have heard you say in a _long_ time, and in my year here, I have heard you say a _lot_."

There wasn't a word heard and not a face that didn't betray their surprise. D-M looked at me like I promised to shoot Santa, Scott didn't budge but his mouth drew further down in a frown and Jean glanced at me with raised eyebrows.

"Kookie, that was-"

"It's all right, Storm. Do continue, Blyt," Professor coolly requested, leaning back in his wheelchair and interlacing his fingers in front of him.

D-M looked at me like my head was about to catch on fire. Suddenly all the things Scott taught me came knocking on the door of my courage.

Never look weak to the enemy even when greatly out manned or out maneuvered.

Never give up.

Never back down.

Take care of your own.

"You have all the nerve in the world to play mutant advocate for—_our_ entire race," I started. "You pick and choose, personally, who will get a second chance and who will be sent to prison or, in this case, a nut hut. You kept a known convict here, who was guilty of murder, attempted murder and so on, but because you thought him _redeemable_, he lived in the _basement_. Where, I will add, he attempted to _kill_my team and me."

"And now we have a team member who needs a second chance, and yes, she _does_ need help, but you are willing to throw her away without so much as a guilty conscience. If anyone should be here, she should. One mistake shouldn't mark you for life, your-" I almost wanted to buckle with the next word, "_family_ should always stand by you, regardless of what kind of crazy junk you pull."

Professor Xavier stared at me.

"I agree with Kookie, Charles," Jean spoke up, "I've lost two children, Rachel and Nate, I've gotten one back, but it's a loss you don't just shrug off." Scott stood still; I didn't think he was breathing. "Daisy acted out in the only way she thought there was to relieve some of the grief in her."

"But murder should never be condoned, Jean," Miss Ororo debated.

"Daisy wouldn't have actually _killed_ Tilby, she just wanted to beat her up a bit and scare her." Gee, that was eloquent.

"Do you have proof of this?" Professor wanted to know.

"Do you have proof she was actually going to _kill_ anyone?" Jean battled back.

Hey, I liked this tag team thing and it went back and forth for a few minutes until Storm pulled a trick card.

"Scott, what is your opinion on this subject?"

All eyes turned on dad, er, well, whatever. Anyway, he was like a statue, arms cross and a stern expression on his face.

"I don't think Kerry needs to be here for the rest of this discussion. She's given her input which has been listened to and recognized, both girls need to be excused."

Ouch. Big, fat stinking _ouch_. Oh, that went _straight_to the heart, no denying that. I mutely nodded when Professor asked us if we'd excuse ourselves and wait in the lobby. After I shut the door it took all I had not to bang my balled fists on it.

_Everything_ I did was _wrong_ to that man!

Daisy looked up at me, and then sat down with her eyes downcast toward her feet yet again.

"You didn't tell them the whole truth."

I glanced back at her, I had to shut her up and quick otherwise eavesdropping on the conversation I was kicked out of was going to be impossible.

"Yeah, I did," I snapped, and pressed my ear to the door. Someone must have known I was going to do this or that it was a popular thing to do because someone _banged_ the door right where my ear was. Yelping, I jumped back holding my offended ear and glared at the wood.

Sighing, I gave up in overhearing everything through the door (because I was partially deaf in one ear, thankyousomuch).

"Ah could heal you, you know, if they didn't have this," she tapped on her funny necklace to let me know what she was talking about, "on. It won't let me use my powers."

I would feel sorry if I didn't know she had every reason to have that—_thing_on her neck. I think they're called restraining collars or something, a piece of technology meant to prohibit a mutant from using his or her power.

Sometimes it was good to have Scott's password to the 'secret X-Men files' that we weren't supposed to be able to hack into.

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" I shot her a look of confusion. "The _whole_ truth."

"Because it's none of their business. Because it was a personal choice. Because I'm too tired and fed up to really care. Pick one." My team would freak out even _worse_ if they found out that Daisy already had _killed_ people. All those doctors (I wasn't sure how many) with her cancer kiss and other disease that led to their unexpected deaths. She played a role in it, a major role, heck she was the lead freakin' actress!

But if Professor ever knew about it, she'd have her behind booted to a prison (how they could really _prove_ she infected the medical people would be interesting) or to a mental hospital never to see sunlight again. If things kept going the way they were, _I'd_end up sharing a room with her at the hospital.

She was quiet for what felt like eternity.

"You didn't have to defend me. You probably aren't being talked about too nicely in there."

I twisted pinched my lips into a thin line of annoyance.

"This is no trial, and they are no judge."

Three seconds later the jury walked out (they might not be a judge but they were a committee of 'listen-to-us-or-get-your-butt-kicked'). Miss Ororo smiled; Jean looked like she just ate a giant four pound chocolate bar in the middle of her period, and Scott looked like himself.

"Daisy, the professor would like to speak with you."

Automatically the girl got up and went inside, when the door clicked shut I opened my mouth to question but someone beat me to the speaking part.

"You need to collect your team and go to the training room. I expect you in fifteen minutes." And then Scott and the other two walked away without telling me a freaking thing!

* * *

"When they wanted us to work closely as a team, I really didn't think this is what they meant." Adrian commented.

"Adrian, shut-up. That's an order," I growled.

"I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"Lighten your load off my lap!" Julie snapped, "And whose hand _is_that?"

"Bad jokes are not needed!" I exclaimed, trying to elbow my way through the tangle of arms and legs.

"Hey! Watch what you're hitting!"

What were we doing? It was the newest Danger Room exercise. They dumped us (quite literally) off in a room that kept constricting. Chris tried to fry the circuits, Adrian attempted to jam it, but kept getting hurt, and for some reason my strength wasn't so super at that moment. Even though Julie was completely useless against machines, it felt weird having her there and not D-M.

But I couldn't focus on Daisy at the moment.

I just couldn't focus.

"What is the _point_of all this?" Julie screamed, her power started to glow, encasing her in a burnt orange..

"Don't even think about it, Brit!" I reprimanded, "We don't need everyone feeling your frustration."

"_My_frustration? This is the whole lots frustration and anger!" She snipped in her bratty British accent.

Each of us (Adam wasn't there because he was just a lab assistant and not a trainee anymore) was pushing against a wall. Too bad the walls were only about four feet away from each other. If we got any closer there was going to be some indecent things happening!

"Work as a team," Scott's voice boomed through the Danger Room on the outside of our box.

"Think outside the box," Chris muttered darkly, "Easy for the one on the outside to say."

"Work as a team, sweat as a team, why not _die_as a team?" Julie grumbled. "It'd save on burial expenses."

"_Forfeit_!" I screamed into my badge as loud as I possibly could and a half a second later, the Danger Room was once again just big and shiny and not big, shiny, and shrinking.

"What did you do?" Adrian asked, "And why didn't you do it sooner?"

"I forfeited the exercise; it's something only we important people are capable of doing." I sassed out, taking in deep breaths of fresh air because while in that tight confined space I got to know everyone's breathe pretty well. And _someone_ had _onions _with their lunch!

"Then how'd you end up being able to do it?" Julie, codenamed 'Blackflame' (her pick) or 'Butt-Flame' (Chris's contribution), questioned.

I was glaring at her as the door opened to let us out. "Don't say things like that."

"But it had to be said," man this girl was rude, annoying, and a verbal battering ram.

"Next time—hold it in."

"I'll get smart-arse back up then!"

I choked. "Will it hurt?"

"Probably, I've never had it before."

"Then make _sure_ you do it."

"Wanker."

Double, triple hard _glare_. I walked away from the team and into the control center. I didn't want to call forfeit because that meant we got demerits as a whole group.

"Who wanted it called?" was the first and only question Cyclops asked me (he was the only one in the room at the time, well besides me, so, well, duh).

I thought about it, and in my barely wheel turning mind I smiled, "Julie."

"Why?"

"She had to go to the bathroom," I lied. I was aware of it being a bad thing to do, but what the heck would _you_ have done in my spot? Said that the team couldn't beat a stinkin' room? That's just embarrassing! If you thought about it, I didn't actually lie; she said she'd get backed up—but let us not travel down _that_ road.

"Fine, she gets two more hours a week in the weight room and you get three more hours with me."

Yeah, as _Blyt_. Everyone knew he didn't want anything to do with _Kookie_, just _Blyt_. Man, I really hated my other persona and I would glare at myself for him only liking one part of me but then it would get confusing (and just plain weird).

Scott closed out whatever it was he was doing, picked up his few things, and started to walk past me. I opened my mouth to say something, anything (!) to him, but ended up looking like a mounted fish.

He apparently noticed my tribute to the goldfish pose and turned to me

"Is there something you wanted, Blyt?"

I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head.

"No, not at all." I was screaming on the inside for him to say _something_ about a job well done about _anything_I had been doing for the past two months. Instead he said he'd see me bright and early tomorrow morning for weights and leadership training.

Two minutes after he left, I walked over to his chair and dropped down. Tracing the keys lightly with my fingertips, I knew I couldn't hold it in any longer. Crossing my arms on the control deck, I put my head in my arm nest, and cried.

_Nothing_I did was good enough for that freaking man!

I about gagged my heart out when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I tensed (even my tears seemed to stop in their wet little tracks).

"Is there something wrong?"

Oh, my, stars (I'd been in the medical lab too much; I was starting to pick up on Dr. Hank's copyrighted material). Scott was there. I did the quickest reassembling of myself _ever_, wiped my eyes as I sat up, and sniffled back the remainder of the pain.

"I'm fine." Another lie.

I couldn't look at him, I really didn't want him to see me at my worse when I couldn't get him to pay attention to me at my _best_.

"Perhaps," he took his hand from my shoulder, "we could—skip a day or two on the sessions." Was Scott actually being _nice_to me?

I sniffled again and gave him a half-hearted thanks. I looked up at him in the reflection of the Control Room glass, which looked down over the Danger Room. For a split second he actually looked concerned, but then he noticed I was looking at him and the mask of leader came on again.

As he left, I felt the little kid in me to a toe-touch for joy. Maybe Scott didn't despise me so much after all. Then the mood was shattered when I heard a loud curse from Chris and the maniacal laughter of a British girl./pSo much for a time of thoughtful reflection.


	69. One in the mouth, one in the grave

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 069**

* * *

I picked up one of the pebbles from the sand and tossed it into the lake. When that tiny splash didn't help, I sighed and found something with weight to it. The bigger the object the better I felt, but it was fleeting.

It wasn't _my _fault I was once again feeling down and depressed about life and those who told me how to run it.

Hopefully, my lying hadn't improved so much that _that _lie was buyable.

It was Scott _again_. After the episode of embarrassing myself by bawling like a baby, I got the next two days off from leadership training and training in general (which meant I had to elect someone _else_ for Julie to practice on. Chris was the victim. How'd it go? Let's just say the Professor left the room chewing several types of aspirin). It was a blessing to not be lectured at so early in the morning.

Why was I upset over something that apparently made me happy? Well, let's just add in the fact that today (the second day off) Scott, in his own weird way, suggested we grab breakfast in town, just him and me. I was stunned, but agreed. It was awkward until he started to talk about dumb things that no one really cared about unless they had run out of everything else in the world to say.

When we ended up at _Harry's Hideaway_ I wasn't surprised, and thankfully, ordering gave us an excuse to ignore one another.

I hid behind the menu until the waitress began to get sick of just bringing me water (Scott refused to let me have any sort of carbonated liquids so early in the morning, yet Mr. Logan got to have _beer _any time!). After another awkward playing-with-my-straw-to-avoid-his-eyes ten minutes I finally forced myself to talk.

"Jean put you up to this, didn't she?"

His face turned a lighter shade of pink than his glasses.

And the dog's name was _Bingo_.

Scott gave a small smile. "That noticeable?"

"Yeah, it is." Sad to say, but it was really obvious Scott wasn't here by _his_ idea. "What's this for?"

"She thought it would be good if you left the mansion for some time. You don't spend much time out of your room, training room, and Danger Room these days."

All because _you_, Mr. Anti-Adopted-Daughter man, who kept telling me to do better. Did he even know it was impossible to do better than my best?

"Oh," was all I could say, and then the waitress (annoyed and grumpy) deposited the plates on the table (and I ordered another water just to make her feel even _more _annoyed than I was).

Scott cleared his throat. "Also to—get to know you better since you hardly come to the boathouse anymore."

Because I was working too freakin' hard to try to prove I was worth your freakin' time! I stabbed my eggs; I probably looked like a freak doing it.

"Oh." Was my only reply.

"So, what is it you-"

"You don't have to do this," I rushed out the words before my brain checked them off as 'not stupid.' "Really, I mean, you don't really want to do this."

"I never said that, Bly-_Kookie_." Blyt. Again with Blyt. I was really starting to hate my 'alter-ego' (even more than I already did because of the annoying spandex that liked to ride up) for stealing all of his attention (the alter-ego, not the spandex).

I faked a smile. "Really, it's okay. I can spend the whole day in the arcade or something and you can do whatever it is you do."

Though I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew he was trying to read between my verbal lines. I kept my smile bright and my eyes wide to make sure I looked innocent and sincere (that should have tipped him off that I was a big fat _liar_). I didn't want Scott hanging around me only because his wife told him to; I wanted Scott to want to be my father figure because he _wanted _to be.

"Are you sure?" My heart twisted violently in my chest. "There are things I need to do in town, but are you sure it's all right?"

Ignoring the little voice in me that was basically crying for the truth to be told, I brightened my smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He nodded, and after five more minutes, he finished his meal and told me he'd be done with things around one. Scott gave me some money to pay for the meal and for 'playing' around with. I was supposed to meet back with him, here, at one for lunch before heading back to the mansion.

I watched as Scott smiled at the guy behind the cash register and then walk out of the place. I continued to stab my eggs and the waitress stopped bringing me water after thirty minutes of jabbing my fork on the plate.

I broke the dumb plate when my strength decided to kick in for some unknown reason.

Frustrated, I remembered throwing a twenty down and saying to keep the change before storming out of the building.

Scott kept his word and I broke mine. I didn't bump into him, opting to go to the park instead of the arcade and just sat on the swing set pushing myself back and forth.

The whole time I was trying to beat it into my head that Scott was not my Dad. He might be in that role legally, but he wasn't there in his heart or mind. I gritted my teeth when that cold realization slapped me.

Still didn't explain why I was at the lakeside at midnight, right?

Okay, so to continue with the little depressing story of mine.

So, after a while, it ended up being one and the same procedure was taken about not talking about X things and sticking to the neutral subjects like 'didn't the sky look really blue today?' We got back to the mansion, and it was about eight before I decided that maybe I should visit the boathouse more often (truth be told, it was that I left my wallet in Scott's car and he parked it down at the boathouse). Deciding to fly, I landed quietly on the deck right next to the kitchen's sliding glass door, which was conveniently opened to allow the breeze to come through.

That's when everything went from bad to worse.

"...did just what you suggested and she just shut me out."

"Did you _try_ and talk to her about anything?" I heard Jean ask. I guess my mental shields must have kicked in high gear because I didn't think she realized I was there. "Anything at all, besides mutants and the X-Men?"

Scott sounded overly stressed with this whole situation.

"Yes! She wasn't responding, just kept giving one-worded answers and not offering anything more than that." Then there came an agitated noise. "I don't know what else we can do to make her open up. The others like Logan and Gambit can be sealed tight, but Kookie-it bothers me to see her this way."

"It's upsetting to me as well," Jean piped in and I really just wish they'd both shut-up at that point. It hurt to hear it the first time, but thinking on it just made it seem like overkill. "Kookie just doesn't seem happy."

Could it be possibly because people were always talking behind my back? Keeping things about me from me? _Noooo _that would have had _nothing _to do with it!

I wasn't sure what I should do, go in and confront them or stick around and hear whatever there was to hear. Since my body had been thrown into stunned mode I waited to see what they had to say.

"Isn't this why we wanted her to go to Dr. Frese?" Scott questioned. My heart cracked a fraction as my eyes start sting. "Because she needed someone to talk to about whatever it is going on in her head?"

Yeah, I guessed it was easier to pay someone to listen to my problems than to have my _parents_ ask. Maybe I wouldn't tell them, but the least they could do was _ask_.

I found my wings once they went on to talking about random, boring, married-people things and I ended up lakeside. Where I had been for what felt like forever.

At least things couldn't get worse.

_Crash_.

Oh great, now it's raining. I was stuck in _'Young Frankenstein' _or something. I sighed and picked myself up and made my way back to the mansion via air. I hadn't had much practice flying with wet feathers, but it wasn't too hard (because the feathers had this natural thing that made water roll off of them, at least that's what Mr. Warren said).

I learned not to lock my window. Who knew when I have a freak flying need and take off without telling everyone from my bedroom to the front door where I was going. I was able to sneak in without anyone knowing I did so.

Well, _almost _anyone.

"It's about time!" I nearly tripped on my own feet when the voice made itself known.

"What the heck are you doing in my room in the dark?" _He_ flipped the lamp light on, "_And_," I drawled out, "on my _bed_?" My prissy cat lay curled up on his stomach, purring because he was petting it. Dumb cat. "With my cat."

"Because I was getting tired waiting for you and the floor isn't comfortable." He propped himself up on his elbows to give me a steady gaze. "And, I quote, you said, 'Come in a few days around ten, and we can have whatever meeting you want' end quote. You're _late_."

I stiffened; those were the exact words Scott said to me during D-M's meeting (which I still didn't know anything about and they wouldn't tell me no matter how much I asked). "I see."

"Where were you?"

"Out," I replied flippantly. "What is it you wanted?" His face soured.

"I really don't want to talk to you about this if you're in a bad mood. I've been on the wrong side of your temper enough to know I'll probably end up with my head through a wall." As insulting as it was, implying I had a bad temper, I couldn't help but smile at him.

Just because I was ticked off, upset, depressed, or some other emotion that should not be visited without proper medication, it didn't mean that 'Jack', had to be on the receiving end of it. I should save it for a special occasion. Like when I finally lost my mind and declared that I would take over the world by mutated frogs and rabid rabbits or something.

"Okay, fine, have it the less threatening way." I faked a pouted. "You're no fun."

"I just don't like concussions." My bad mood was slowly lifting with every smart aleck reply he gave. "Anyway, what I wanted this 'meeting' for was to just-you know, talk."

"Talk?" I repeated in slight disbelief. "Just _talk_?"

_He _gave a half laugh. "Yeah, talk. You know, communicate via words from mouth? Talk." I grabbed and straddled my computer chair; he sat up on my bed. "This is sorta serious."

The Dumb Cat protested with a meow and then jumped on my bed and began to clean itself with its tongue.

I felt a sarcastic remark wiggle around on my tongue but I bit its head off before I could get into trouble by saying it.

"Okay, so what's so serious?"

"Us." Wasn't it amazing how quickly a conversation could get uncomfortable? It took, what, . two seconds? "Don't look at me that way!"

"I thought there was no 'us' left, just two people living and sometimes working together."

"I know you probably want to—kick me in a very prized area—"

"But?" I offered, trying to fight off a vision of me doing such a task.

"But, I still want to be friends." I felt my heart sag slightly; I didn't really want him to say more. After all, after remembering Scott and Jean's little Kookie conversation…well, who would want such a nut bar for a girlfriend? He opened his mouth to continue saying something but then snapped it shut.

"What?"

'Jack' flung his legs over the side of my bed, got up, and sat down again on the foot of my bed, elbows resting on his knees with his fingers interlaced. It must be serious, taking in his body language (like Mr. Logan said to) his knuckles were pinkish-white.

"Look, I know I acted-badly. I was a jerk. I got upset for a dumb reason and decided to make you jealous by doing something stupid. I hurt you."

My protest shrunk down back into my prideful center.

"Anyway, you-I didn't know that I was treating you like crap until you basically rejected me. Yeah, I realize now I wasn't acting like such a great guy or someone who you would find-attractive? But I still-I mean, I want to be friends."

I felt sick and happy all at the same time.

"Basically you want more, but you just want to be friends?" I wanted the same thing, but if I told him as much, I had a feeling we'd miss out on the whole 'friends' thing. When he nodded, I bit my lip to hide a smile. "I think I'll definitely like trying to be friends again. I miss having you around."

Then came his knee-melting smile. The one that made me want to say 'friends? Screw that babe! Let's get a chapel and a hotel room!' Okay, maybe not _that_extreme, but anyway you know what I was talking about!

"I better get out of here; don't want Jean hunting me down." He got up, but must have noticed the slumping of my shoulders. "Or I could stay if it's that important to you." There was a smile in his voice but he missed the point entirely. What a _guy_ thing to do.

"It's not that-"

"Jean, then? And again?"

"What do you mean 'again'?" I got defensive, but I didn't get out of the chair. That would have been too much work.

"You get upset mostly when it's either something to do with Jean or me-maybe I am a 'was' upset, and when it comes to Scott, you start firing off your mouth and eyes like they were machine guns." I stuck out my tongue at him and swiveled in my chair so my back was to him.

"I do _not_get upset over Jean's absurd opinions," I muttered darkly.

"But you love her interventions, there's no denying that either." Sure there was, there was always the path of outright denial. "But what do you say about ditching this place for a night and going out-purely as a _friend _thing this Friday? I've got nothing better to do."

Gee thanks! With such sweet words like that, no wonder you didn't have anything better to do on a Friday night!

* * *

That Wednesday, I woke up to a lot of commotion right outside my door. I picked my weary head up from the book it had fallen in (books did not make very comfortable pillows in case anyone was wondering) and made my way to the door.

It was Chris nearly screaming about some visitors. As soon as I put my ear to the door, someone pounded on it to wake me up. My brain sure the heck woke up! I yanked open the door; glare set to give to the person on the other side.

"What?"

"You better get down stairs. There's something going on involving Daisy." Chris explained in a clipped and angry voice before stomping to his room and slamming the door shut.

I double checked my clothes and shrugged. So what if it was the same thing I wore yesterday? Making my way down the stairs to the first floor, I paused when I saw two people I did not know looking and talking with the Professor and looking very, well, _human_.

As I made my way down the last few steps, Dr. Hank pulled me over.

"Those are Daisy's parents. Charles requested they visit."

He was still going to send her up the mental river! I felt my blood boil. Dr. Hank went to say something else, but I ripped myself from his grip and stomped over to where they were.

The professor looked up at me and smiled as he gestured toward the man and woman in front of him.

"Kookie, we were just talking about you. I would like to introduce you to Edward and Norma-Lynn Bloome."

I nodded, tight and thinned lipped. I probably looked like I was holding in an unpleasant noise resulting from bean burritos or something. Since it was around lunch time, all the lab rats and bed bugs emerged from wherever it was they hid and scurrying around the foyer.

Man, I just wanted to kick myself!

"I can't _believe_ you'd do this!" I screeched. The whole world stopped on a Kookie. "I thought you wouldn't _do_ this!" I faced the professor who looked utterly shocked. I _knew_ he was going to pull this 'I-am-thy-King-mutant' act! Daisy's parents were here to take her away! "You're going to send her away to the loony bin!"

Yes, this was the time when my mouth started to taste like foot, but did that stop me from continuing? _Noooo_.

"You let some psycho, freak killer stay here and now you're kicking a—_troubled _person out? What's wrong with your logic! What, didn't she kiss your royal butt enough? Sometimes I think that Sabretooth had better leadership qualities than you!"

There was a choking sound. I was not sure if it was to bite back a curse or laugh. My brain was over reacting and, therefore, over loading.

"Kerry!" Jean pulled me to the side and whispered harshly while everyone was still looking at me. "They aren't here to _take _Daisy. They're here because Professor wanted to let them know she's staying with us and to give them the full story."

I knew my face betrayed my utter shock and the complete feeling of being a moron. When in such a fragile state of stupidity the last thing I should have done was look at Scott. He had his arms crossed and a scowl well in place.

"You're out of line, Blyt."

I stepped away from Jean to look at most everyone else. They all had the sour look. I had clearly over-stepped my bounds and every set of eyes was screaming at me.

"Oh," I said, backing toward the staircase.

Death, I would appreciate it if you claimed me now. I couldn't believe I just chewed the head guy out in front of _everyone_!

Man, just hand me the steak and throw me to a pack of starving dogs! Turning back to Professor, who had a look of promise (of a slow and painful demise), I knew I was just lucky last time to escape with my life after I gnawed on him before. By the way his eyebrows were starting to resemble horns, I realized that my luck stopped. I was so dead.

"And you are?" Mr. Bloome questioned, his voice reminded me of Scott's after someone blew up his favorite cannon in the Danger Room (or when he was feeling particularly sadistic).

Mrs. Bloome smiled and stretched her hand forward at me.

"Pleased to meet you."

I stuttered something, but before I could think of reacting to her outstretched hand, her husband tapped it down.

"I-I have-something to-," But whatever I said was completely forgotten as the hustle returned to normal, no doubt a telepathic command from Professor.

Oh man, I was going to be _such _a baked Kookie.

* * *

Thursday afternoon I had my nails dug into the armrests of the chair I'd been provided during my fatal speech ceremony. I was glad Scott and Miss Ororo stayed out of this.

So far, there was nothing being said, just my head hung, and me being the very essence of ashamed. I think I sent the scent off so strongly that Mr. Logan bailed or something close to it (Julie was probably feasting off of my negative fuel).

I glanced up at the Professor who had a neutral expression on.

What, was I supposed to talk first? "Uh," was my brilliant opening line.

"Kerry," he started, and to my surprise, it wasn't as harsh as I _thought _it would be. In fact I would say it was somewhat-sympathetic? "I know that these past months have been difficult on you. Losing your mother, your sister, and the life you knew."

Yeah, thanks, as if I wasn't feeling bad; I was pretty much suicidal at that point (okay not _that_ bad, but let me tell you: about ten gallons of ice cream was on my menu).

"We have taken you in," and I was holding a comment in because I didn't need to add fudge to that ten pounds of ice cream, "have taught you to the best of our knowledge regarding your powers, which are still under question." Yeah, big surprise. "I've opened my home. There are many who have offered you friendship and more—from your new name it should be obvious." I cringed. Did he mean my _codename_ or the one that I had to ask from Scott and Jean?

I glanced up at him, and then turned my eyes away.

"I've tried every way I could think of, every technique to make you open up and accept what you are and yet you have, quite defensively, denied it."

My 'I-want-to-say-something' twitch started at the corner of my mouth, but I didn't dare open it in fear of causing myself more grief than absolutely necessary.

"Kerry." I looked up when the chair moaned under the shifting of weight. "What is it you fear about being a mutant? What lies in your past, in your mind which won't let you accept what you are?"

I clamped my teeth, "I-" but instead of anything coming out, my tongue got caught between my teeth and I decided to leave it that way.

"The idea of Dr. Frese was to get you to be more expressive, which I think your lack of proper rest has done well enough." I made a grunting noise because I was caught. "Your previous defense of your teammate was admirable, and the only reason you were not punished for speaking so decidedly was because of you finally showed enthusiasm."

"I-stepped out of line," I bit out. Scott was right, Scott was _always_ right that's what made him Scott. "I'm sorry." Oh my goodness, it was a very nasty and bitter horse pill to swallow when I had to apologize.

"What is it you want to finalize?"

"Jeopardy?"

He smiled at that. Couldn't believe it! He _smiled_.

"I see. When you reach a decision, please inform me." Professor tipped his head to the side a fraction. "Until then, I'll be deciding what your punishment should be for such inappropriate comments, earlier."

Getting up to leave, I turned to him. "So, Daisy's staying?"

"Yes," an amused expression crossed his face, "but her parents have requested that the crazy girl who they met earlier, I can only assume _you_, to not participate in her 'healing' process."

I felt a blush creep across my face. Oh boy, say one dumb thing and they never let me forget it (or they thought I'd completely lost it, but whatever). After I left, I sighed, and walking back to my room, a thought crossed my mind.

Why the heck didn't I get yelled at? I mean, I thought I deserved to be yelled at! Wait, what was I saying?! Since when did I become a masochist?


	70. Date Fate

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 070**

* * *

I scratched the back of my hand so much I thought it was going to bleed.

Chris looked over at me curiously.

"What's your problem? Got fleas?"

I glared at him.

"I don't have fur, moron, I have _feathers_." We were supposed to be doing the simulating flying thing again. This was our second attempt to fly the fake ship without crashing it. Heh, I kind of wrecked it earlier when a spider decided to drop down on my lap, I freaked, and nearly knocked Chris out.

Jean, trying to be patient, told us to try again, and next time-just kill the spider before attempting to kill myself or my teammate.

Giving the back of my hand a break, I started to scratch my knee.

"Man, quit it! You're acting like a dog!"

"Who are you calling a dog, Fido?" I pushed back, pretty soon the flight simulation turned into a name-calling match (just like old times) and then the whole simulator went red.

Chris tried to recover the mistake of completely ignoring the controls, and I went into another bored yawn. We weren't really going to die-at least not in there, but once we got fussed at about being thoughtless actions and blah blah, then we might meet our doom.

I guessed the doom would be a speech; the relief would be the death where I wouldn't have to hear the lectures anymore!

* * *

Still Thursday (seemed like it was never ending!).

I lifted my head from the nest of my arms, sleep temporarily blinding me as I tried to focus on the person who had turned on the light.

"Who is it?" I asked in a broken-type voice.

"You should really be in bed," It was _him_; I guess he just wandered in from somewhere.

"Why?" I questioned sleepily. "You're not there."

I turned my head away from him and settled back into my arm nest—and then blushed like as hot as the rising sun.

"A friends with benefits arrangement? Never thought you'd go for that."

I kept my head turned away, and tried to will the floor to open up and send me crashing on Prof's desk a floor below.

There was a groaning noise and then the sensation of being lifted from the chair. My eyes popped open as I felt one of his hands go behind my back, under my wings and the other sought the crook of my knees.

"What are you doing!" I yelped in my tired and pathetic voice.

"Making sure you get some sleep. I don't care if I have to tie you to your bed, which would be fun, but first you're going to get more than four hours of sleep before you go postal on us."

I tried to fight.

"This is crazy! It's not like it's even _time_ to sleep."

"It's three in the morning. You're not Gambit and you don't have enough hair on your chest to be Logan, so you should be asleep." I had to admit, no matter how much he tended to hurt and tick me off, _he_ was still warm and it felt good to be close to him again.

He made his way from the kitchen up the stairs.

"Insane."

"You're so exhausted; you can't even come up with a decent insult. You're no fun to pick on when you can't even insult me properly." He shot me a suggestive smile, "Though you seem more than willing to be flirty."

Yawning, my mouth cut the link with my brain, "I am not flirty, just—things come out wrong. Maybe just don' wanna play verbal boxing with you."

He made a funny noise in the back of his throat. "But you still wouldn't mind playing other games with me."

"Shut-up," I remarked, smiling as I almost _felt_ him roll his eyes. "Though I win for being the most creative."

"Childishness is not the same as creative." He kicked open my door as quietly as possible. And a few seconds later I felt my bed, my beautiful bed that I had spent way too much time away from as of late.

"Whatever," I yawned, snuggling into my pillow. "But you are a lot stronger than you look. I didn't think you'd be able to pick me up." My voice was starting to get that 'wistful' sound to it.

I felt something furry and soft touch my arm. I cracked an eye to see Stitch staring back at me.

"I bench press twice your weight every morning and then some."

My eyebrows perked of their own accord at the information. "Always liked being held," I muttered, grabbing my furry little friend and burying my noise into his softness. I sighed out something I hoped he heard because I really was too tired to repeat it.

"Why so nice to me all of a sudden?"

There was a soft laugh and a quick 'talk about it later' and then he left-or I fell asleep, who knew?

* * *

It was Friday and the time for the 'two-single-friends-who-are-still-attracted-to-each-other-but-this-was-not-a-date-date' date. I was getting ready for my 'friend' when someone came banging on my door.

"Come in!" I screamed, hiding my mascara (borrowed from Daisy a while ago) behind my back. Adrian walked in with a goofy smile on his face. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Visiting. Can't I come and bug my favorite leader?" Adrian asked, tipping his face to the side. "Honestly, with that type of reaction I would think you almost didn't want me here."

I glared at him and answered in my best snotty voice, "What on earth would give you _that_ impression?"

He shrugged. "Just the whole 'what are you doing here' line I guess, it's not exactly encouraging."

Oh darn.

"Is that all?" I turned back to my dresser where my small mirror was placed. I tried to stuff the make-up in a drawer before he noticed, but I heard him snort.

"What are you getting all girl for?"

_That_ was _it_!

"_Out_!" I screamed, "Getout! Getout! Getout!"

Adrian didn't budge, so I picked up my Stitch and began to hit him over the head with it until he stumbled out of my doorway and into the hall. Where, I might add, I met up with my cat. The dumb cat that had, apparently, been shopping in my laundry.

He had a pair of my panties with the word 'angel' written all over it.

I went redder than Jean's hair.

"You dumb creature!" Note to self, when wanting an animal (a _male_ animal at that) to cooperate with me, do _not_ start screaming at it and threatening to cut off its tail.

I ended up chasing the annoying demon with fur around the east wing (the male half) for about ten minutes before it scurried into Mr. Bishop's room. I did not follow into the room, but instead wanted to (once again) curl up in a little ball and evaporate because of the pure embarrassed heat coming off of my face. Mr. Bishop came out with the cat in one hand, my underwear in the other.

With all his strictness he simply asked, "Are these yours?"

Without even looking I grabbed it out of his hands and turned to quickly make an exit before my brain tapped on my smart door and asked why I grabbed the cat. Looking down in my hands, sure enough, there was the fat cat. Dropping the thing with a 'thud' I hurried over to a now _smiling_ Mr. Bishop, grabbed the _other_ item from him and had to do everything to not run to my room and slam the door.

That dumb cat was so embarrassing…and it somehow beat me back to my room as it sat on my bed purring.

"Don't do anything dumb," I ground out. It just yawned and then started to clean itself.

I picked up my mascara and finished what I had been doing before Adrian's interruption.

Of _course,_ I was little Miss Popular that night when someone _else_ came knocking. Staring at the door as if I was going to get X-ray vision (I would gouge out my eyes eventually) to see who it was, but all I knew was that they kept knocking.

"Come in." My danged curiosity caved in on top of my annoyance and common sense.

Bobby-Jerk popped his head through the door. "Hey!"

My eyebrows shot up and then down to knit together. "What the heck are _you_ doing here?"

He opened the door all the way. "I came to ask if you saw Chris."

"Nope, but he's a big boy, probably out zapping frogs or something."

"Okay, I wanted to ask that, and if you know how this," Bobby-Jerk stuck his hand out, and on the end of his fingers was _another_ pair of my underwear. I opened my mouth to say something but my humiliation captured my voice. "Got into my room."

"I…." was what I got out before Bobby-Jerk tossed my clothing into the room and simply said he didn't _want_ to know.

The cat must have known it was in trouble because it started making its way toward the door. There could have been fire flying out from my eyes I was _so_ mad at that dumb _feline_!

Grabbing the offending little jerk, I tossed it back on the bed and slammed the door. I finished getting ready and then gave the cat a nasty little smile. Picking it up, I made my way downstairs and found Mr. Remy in the kitchen concocting some type of something that he tried to pass off as food. Without much of an explanation, I shoved the cat into his hands and said, "Here's an extra ingredient."

When I was going back up the stairs, I found Chris staring at me from the landing.

"Drake was looking for you."

He continued to stare.

"What's wrong? Did you accidentally electrocute yourself or something?"

Shaking off his stupor, "Where are you going?" Chris' voice sounded weird, like almost a shy whisper or something equally _un_-Chris like.

"Are you feeling okay? You look like you just saw a ghost." Which, at the mansion, I wouldn't even begin to _doubt_.

Then the scowl came. "Nothing."

As he pushed past me, I rolled my eyes, what a _boy_. I shrugged it off, until I heard him whisper something so low that I wasn't sure I was supposed to hear him or not.

"You look good."

I twisted around but he was still making his way to wherever he was going without so much as a hitch in his step. Deciding that I didn't need any extra drama, I just filed it under 'later' and kept going.

When I was once again back in my room and waiting, the third knocking person came. Opening the door I found a smiling Jack.

"It's about time!"

* * *

"So," I dragged out the word, playing with my straw. "What is this?"

"This," he said, motioning around the Taco Bell, "is a fast food restaurant, called such because they used to be fast about the food."

I flicked a packet of hot sauce at him. "Smart aleck."

He smiled. "By birth. Why would I change that about myself?"

"To get a date?" I wanted to kick myself in the wings for that remark as a shocked expression came across his face, and then it ever so slowly turned into an ever charming smile.

"Speaking of…" Oh man, here it was. "Our food is here."

I almost fell face first onto the table. I couldn't believe this guy sometimes!

* * *

After the sidestepping of my questions at the oh-so-elegant restaurant of Taco Bell, we went to the movies. Was this a date-date yet? Or did this constitute as a simple 'forgive and forget' thing _still_?

We were there to watch something I'd been waiting for since I saw the first preview, some comedy called, _'Demon Mistress's Reign._'

Pointing to the tall man and shorter woman I smirked.

"Hey, isn't that—" Then I felt my wrist being grabbed and my whole body being pulled down. I almost fell on my behind! My wrist was still in his hand. "Oh crap!"

"What's the matter, big brave boy? Scared of a little red head and her hubby?" I joked. He gave me an astonished look.

"No, I'm afraid of optic beams and telepathy. Not to mention telekinesis which lets her land a perfect bull's eyes _every_ time." He cringed, and started to pull me (still hunched over) toward the large display of some muscle head poster cut out stand thing.

"What are we going to do? Hide behind a piece of cardboard all day?"

"No, just until they leave," he clarified. "Or go to their movie."

"Who knew they actually _went_ to the movies. I thought they'd just tap into someone's brain and watch it through the mind or something."

He quirked a dang eyebrow at me. "And they think I'_m_ crazy."

"No, they _know _you are," I revised with a frowned. Whatta creep. A creep who still had my wrist securely in his grasp (not painfully or I'd have punched him through the wall). Allowing myself a small smile, one he wouldn't see, but then again I had to remember that this guy hurt me before. So _slam, _up went the shields again.

He looked over at me and sighed almost as if he had been defeated. Then, looking back over the crowd, he cursed.

"I take my eyes off of them for one second and they pull a Kurt and disappear!"

I blushed, yeah, even Mr. Kurt brought to mind a lot of _his_ and my past. All the times Mr. Kurt had conveniently interrupted us-

"Come on, Ker, we're going to be late." Without hesitation he moved us quickly to through the lobby, to the correct theater, and we pushed our way to decent seats. At least we would have if the previews hadn't started to play.

"Uh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," usually because the bearer got the snot beat out of them, "but—uh,"

"Come on, there are two seats over there. I should have known better than to come during an opening weekend."

I tried to pull back to get his attention, but he was a man on a mission. The mission was going to be a bomb but did Dumbo listen to me? _Ooohhh,_ no. _He_ had to be such a male about it.

When we sat down, I slumped far down in my seat. Tapping me on the shoulder he asked what was wrong. Without a word of explanation I jabbed my finger a row in front of us and to the left.

One second later he was deep in his seat as well.

"Why did _they_ pick this movie?" He cursed.

Oh yeah, Scott and Jean, who else? I was about to give a smart aleck reply when I remembered that I had been the one who told them how great this movie was going to be. So, for once, I was to blame and the blame was actually _deserved_!

Then a thought visited my brain in the 'duh' department.

"You're not you right now, you're Jack." I pointed out; he seemed to think about this, rolled his eyes and sat up in his chair.

I found my image inducer and fiddled with it as the little popcorn and hotdog danced across the screen (how morbid was it for food to _sing _about how they wanted you to eat them?). I sighed when the inducer glowed with life.

"Better?" I asked.

I wasn't sure whether to fight or to be freaked as he put his hand on my head and pushed me far down into the seat until I slid out of the chair and hit my knees.

"_Hey_!" I screamed in-a gargle?

"_Sssshhhhh_!" Someone hissed in the back.

"This isn't the time to be funny!" _he_ whispered harshly, ducking his head to my level. "Change into-something else!"

"What's wrong with _this_?" I asked defensively.

"You're _not_ human!" His voice rose with every word.

"Down in front!" another voice shouted, and I decided that person was going to be the first to kiss the concrete next time I got into a bad mood. I didn't know who the theater king was who kept shushing us, but I would find out!

"What do you-" Then I looked down at my hand. It was a tentacle! Oh man! I must have grabbed the wrong spare! This was the one I used to freak Dr. Frese out!

I started to jab in different commands, but my fumbling and worry made me drop it.

"Perfect," I muttered, reaching beneath the seat where the stick machine had rolled, only to have my hand trampled on as soon as I wrapped my fingers around it.

The lady was wearing high-heels. I bit back a scream and jerked my hand, with image inducer, back to me. I small spark flew from the machine as I tapped the control button.

"Come on, hurry up!" Jack insisted. I looked up at him. My face must have screamed trouble.

"We have a problem."

"Don't tell me you're stuck to the floor." I glared at him, but then my fear took me over again.

"It's stuck-or broken. I can't turn it off."

Even with his own image inducer, I could still tell he went white. "You're kidding me."

"Do I look like a person who would willingly put herself in a predicament like this?"

"Maybe if you were wrapped in black leather-" I pinched his leg, beneath his knee.

"_Ow_!" _That _turned heads. He smiled nervously at the menacing people. When they had all looked away again, he leaned down to talk to me. "Can't you just break that one and use your normal one?"

"I can't. I'm either this creature feature or Kookie Summers. Either I'm scary or I face the wrath of an angry Jean. Personally I'm willing to be selfish and make _other_ people wet their pants." I sighed, "Are they watching the movie yet?"

He looked over the seats and nodded. "Are you going to try to make a break for it?"

"Yeah." Glancing behind me, all I saw was a sea of legs, drinks and popcorn tubs. I could just shoot Adam-if I hadn't been the one who requested he do this for me. Why had he used this flimsy thing!

"I'll go in front of you, that way they'll move their legs." I smiled meekly at him as he started the process of the 'excuse me' and 'sorry' lines. I crawled after him; people seemed annoyed with him blocking the opening credits than the blob of pus popping goo on her hands and knees at their feet.

When we got to the aisle without much incident (though I did find someone's _gum_ and had several kernels of chewed popcorn in my hair) I almost stood up. Then I saw Scott stand through the corner of my eye.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Jack muttered. Thankfully, Scott was going the other way and we still were slowly making our way to the doors. How I was going to be unnoticed by those in the lobby I wasn't sure. I mean, in the theater the lights were dimmed and no one was really paying attention. Out there was a different matter entirely.

In the small crook between the door to the lobby and the aisle of the theater, Jack helped me to my feet and almost went green when he got a good look at my monster.

"Do I want to know why?"

Groaning, "Not right now," _He_ shook his head in disbelief I supposed, "But how are we going to keep the people out there from noticing a blob with acne?" I tapped my chin (well, if my blob image _had_ a chin) "there needs to be a distraction."

I got an idea, and with one wicked smile (like this monster could give anything else _but_ a wicked smile) toward Jack.

"Whatever it is, forget it. I don't trust that look in your eyes, or—eye." He cringed as I played with the image eye ball which hung by a nerve.

"I'd do it for you," I tried in a low voice.

"Do what?" And then I told him, I wasn't sure if the situation was funny until he made his shocked and 'no-way!' face, or if it was funny before it. "No way!"

We got shushed again.

"Please?" I begged, "Don't you like me?"

Childish tactic, but it worked! He glared at me and sighed.

"Fine, but you owe me _big_ time for this." With that, he started to tamper with his image inducer. Instead of Jack _Little_, he was now Jacquelyn _Big Bust_ was in front of me. Oh yeah, I talked him into changing his look to a female with a very large chest, which was barely covered. I figured that should get most all the males attention and their girlfriends' attention as well when they started to beat their guys back into submission. He sighed and mentioned about not feeling like a guy anymore and stuck his nose in the air and strutted out.

Wondering why I didn't request his image inducer and just switch out? Because if I had, he wouldn't be Jack, he'd be himself and since the image I have on was _stuck_and wouldn't turn off, it wouldn't have helped.

I stuck my big blob head out to see if my idea had worked, poor Jacquelyn was stumbling her way through the crowd. As predicted, many, if not all, of the men turned to watch her and the women watched them in turn.

I held my breath and made a run for it. I was almost to the doors when I looked over my shoulder, and then stumbled into another person. As my luck was, I was sure I had tackled Scott yet again, but it wasn't him (thanks to some higher power!) it was just some poor startled kid.

"_Ahh_!" The kid kicked me away and started to crab walk as fast as he could from me.

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" I gurgled out, trying to keep the attention we were getting to a minimum. "Don't be scared-this is just a promotional costume!"

The kid stared at me, then with a huge smile started to poke at my body. I laughed nervously, and then continued to make my way out the door. The guy who got paid minimum wage to open and shut the door was yawning, and then he was choking as he opened the door for the gray blob to pass through.

Waiting in the alley, I quickly squashed the dumb image inducer into tiny sparking chips of trouble. The gray blob image faded, thankfully, and the 'natural' me (complete with moveable wings!) was there again. Jack came out, the _male_ version of himself, grumbling and almost walked right past me.

"Hey!"

His eyes didn't hide _any_ resentment he felt toward me about this whole ordeal.

"That was the last time I _ever_ want to do that."

I smiled impishly, "Oh come on, it wasn't that bad was it?"

Jack's glare wasn't a full, serious glare (which was a good thing). "One guy pinched me so hard I think he broke a blood vessel."

Uh-oh, "What did you do?"

He snorted as he checked to make sure it was all right for me to make my way back to the car. "What any self-respecting female would do, punched him so hard he caught some air time."

* * *

Once we got home, I made sure to fly up to my room instead of walking through the front door with the guy. With the highly suspicious nature of well, everyone in the mansion I didn't want them to jump to conclusions (and they could have some _very_ colorful conclusions). I didn't bother wiping off any of the make-up but decided it was wiser to just 'mingle' with those who might be up at twelve something in the morning.

What I found in the Rec. Room was a snoring Julie (who knew little monsters slept?) and an irate looking Chris.

"What'cha watching?" I asked, plopping down beside him.

"Nothing," he grunted, shooting daggers at Julie who chose to snore a bit louder, "Which is a good thing because I can't hear it over the British chain saw anyway!" It took him a few minutes, but eventually Chris looked over at me, that same weird expression crossing across his face before turning bitter. "Have a nice night with Romeo?"

I paled, "You knew?"

"I saw you leave with some guy." There was _no_ mistaking his _almost_ jealous attitude.

For a small instant I felt almost _guilty_, but then I shook it off. I only felt bad for hurting Chris' feelings, not because Jack wasn't Chris.

"Did you spend your entire time with Julie-et over there?"

His blue eyes went north.

"She wouldn't leave me alone! Just kept nagging me about some dumb things and getting me _mad_ over the dumb things."

I raised an eyebrow and studied sleeper. Her hair was not the neatest, but then again she never really brushed it. But then something caught my attention. Her bright red, fingerless gloves. After the whole Daisy-Mae thing, I wasn't going to take any chances with 'surprises' lurking around in the shadows of anyone's past.

Especially when Julie's only positive aspect was that she -she-well, heck. I guess I was going to have to attempt to find something positive about the annoying girl. Anyone who could make _Chris_ look like a bright ball of sunshine _must_ have something about how they got that way.

Or at least have enough intelligence to make something up! Inquiring Kookie's wanted to know…


	71. Danger Flies

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 071**

* * *

"It's a truth universally recognized, when one part of your life gets better another one will fall spectacularly to pieces." Or something along those words was a part of the _Bridget Jones' Diary_ movie that I had to shake hands with the writer and go 'yup' to.

Since my current position was between 'I quit' and going to the funny farm it seemed like getting anything resolved was the last thing I would be capable of. But, sadly, my life had a way of shooting a scene before I got script approval!

It has been a week in a half since my disastrous date thing with Jack, and we have snuck out only once since then to have another date-friend-thing. There was a conversation, I overheard, with Jean and Scott about some flippy kid who was _so_ sure he saw a blob, meaning _Blob Ooze 3_ was going to come out. They thought it was a riot (no clue as to _why)_, I thought it was nauseating.

Back to my life, as anyone could imagine, I was almost on cloud nine because of Jack's and mine new attempt at friendship. Although, I had to admit, I was rather busy the past few months to wonder what he was thinking (besides the times when I noticed he was looking at me with, well, _something _which left me with the feeling that I was just suckered punched). I was still wrapped up so much in the work as the leader of the X-Cites that I didn't really have time to dwell on my personal life.

Okay, that was a lot of pointless information, but let me move forward to something with several large and sharp points. Namely the Danger Room. Once again, we were in the Danger Room with a band of guys and things that were attempting to be passed off as females. They happened to be females chasing us around with swords and screaming in a language that sounded like a CD skipping in the middle of an opera. Oh yeah, some of the _real_ X-men were in there just to 'shake things up'.

I flew from all the sharp pointy objects aimed at my head, thinking I'd be safe in the air. _Wrong_. Don't ask me when Mr. Warren went all swashbuckler on me, but he did. He had a sword and a smirk as he started for me.

We both weaved and dove after one another for a few moments before I was able to make him drop that dumb weapon (but not the smirk of satisfaction of beating me-or perhaps it was because his student came so far, who knew!).

"Get _away_ from me!" Julie really didn't need her comm. link to be heard. Her little encore to the outburst was to fill the room with her dark, moody flames. It's the strangest thing. You expected it to burn your skin, but instead it felt like it was burning your very _soul_. Whatever she hit us with; I felt my adrenaline kick into overtime as my heart started to thud in my ears. So distracted by the odd sensation Black Flame's little fit caused, I didn't know Mr. Warren was close until he grabbed me from behind.

"Ready to give up?"

My wings were trapped between my back and his chest, meaning he was supporting us in mid-air with only his wings. His hands were clasped together in front of me making sure I couldn't use my arms. My strength wasn't with me for some dumb reason at first, but the harder I struggled, the more I could feel the adrenaline redirecting itself.

I stayed in black form when in the Danger Room because I wasn't an idiot. My normal skin started to creep up my legs, I was reverting back! Growling like a trapped animal (technically I was) I started to settle (playing 'possum' according to Mr. Logan) and waited two seconds before I yelled out. I extended my arms and wings at the same time-this was the only way of getting away.

It worked, but Mr. Warren was _too_ experienced not to have had a backup plan. He grabbed a hold of the place that connected my wing to my back. Annoyed and still on the tidal wave of whatever Julie hit us all with, I started to scream, "Let me _go_!" And then I swiped at Mr. Warren, raking my fingers across his chest.

"Ugh!"

My wings free and spread, I turned to see where he was.

His shirt was red. His look was of utter shock and disbelief. There were slash marks across his chest.

I looked down at the hand which struck him, it was covered with blood.

The tips of my fingers glistened with the red liquid; it looked like some horrible fingernail polish for my new-_claws_?

* * *

"How is he?"

Dr. Hank smiled at me, showing off his fangs (with all the Twinkies he consumed, one had to wonder how he had any teeth left).

"When he left here, I assure you Warren's pride was the only thing in pain." Okay, that took care of _one_ answer.

"What the heck are these?" I asked in my dead-pan Summers voice.

"My dear Miss Summers, those are what most people would call claws." He seemed to ponder something before adding, "Though in the avian world, I suppose the proper terminology would be _talons_."

I glowered. "What are they doing on my hands?"

"Ah, yes, I was wondering when you'd notice another transformation."

"You-You _knew_ this was going to happen?" I fell on the doorframe for support. I expected him to be just as surprised as I was.

He had the intelligence to look sheepish.

"In a way." Dr. Hank was holding back information on me! "Don't give me that look, Miss Summers! You know perfectly well that I would have told you my theories if you asked."

I sighed.

"Is there anything thing else you're neglecting to tell me? Like, maybe _before_ I grow a tail?" One very fuzzy blue eyebrow rose up over his glasses. "I'm kidding," I stated flatly.

Another fangy grin.

"Now, down to science and do not fret my dear feathered friend, I will keep in account that you have a New York minute attention span during this explanation." I cringed. "As you might or might not remember from our previous discussion many months ago about your unknown mutation, it appears to never stop mutating."

Taking off his glasses, he began to clean them with the hem of his lab coat.

"I'll put this in the easiest way for anyone to grasp. Everyone has a natural 'fight-or-flight' response when feeling threatened. You, dear Kookie, have this in spades. When you get highly emotional, I deduce, your mutation starts to work overtime to cancel out the threat."

My mouth twitched in a semi-smile full of 'yeah, right'.

"My blood can think?"

Dr. Hank hummed, "That's one way of putting it. Your wings were dormant for quite some time before they made their, er, appearance. As well as your skin. For reasons only known to you at this moment, you wished to be sky-able and also to have thicker skin."

My eyes went to my booted feet. There was a _very _good reason why I wanted to fly away so many, many months ago. My dad. I guessed I started to mutate then.

"As for your strength, I've heard that you are having problems controlling it, is this true?"

Nervous laughter time.

"Sort of." I was going to _hurt _whoever blabbed on me!

"Then my other prediction seems to be correct." I was not enjoying his 'I-know-more-about-you-than-you-know' spiel, "Your adrenaline can't keep up _all_ your defenses, so it picks and chooses. When you feel threatened by Jean or Charles, your mental shields are your body's main priority."

Oh, and here I thought he meant when I felt stupid.

"So what's up with the claws? Did my nails feel threatened because I bit them?"

"Probably a result of Sabretooth." He said it like it was nothing! "And from current exercises which dealt with entrapment." I wanted to growl in frustration, but now knowing how any emotional outburst was going to affect my mutation, I decided not to tempt my temper.

Sighing instead, as Dr. Hank went into the details (which I blocked out), my mind wondered over to another question.

"What can you tell me about Julie?"

That caught him off guard, but Dr. Hank's a talker and therefore more than willing to tell me all he knew.

* * *

"_Oof_!"

"Again," Scott barked, I grumbled under my breath about wanting to pull his spandex underwear over his head. He didn't hear me, but Mr. Logan did and choked on his drink.

Climbing back to my feet for the fourth time, I whined, "Isn't this enough yet?" I should have known better; Scott gave me a disapproving look.

"No, again."

"Come on kid; prove I've taught ya something." Mr. Logan tried to be encouraging but came off as exasperated, like the rest of the comments given by Scott! The Kookie Flipper!

It took two seconds for me to land against the wall yet _again_.

"Where is your mind, Blyt?"

"Splattered against the wall along with my pride."

Scott thought it would be smart to test my hand-to-hand combat since my mutant abilities had been incapacitated not too long ago on the field. Basically it was a beat Kookie up hour.

"You won't go on the field any time soon at this rate." Oh, look at the tears in my eyes! I was fed up, tired, and hot. Not great qualities to have when facing someone who could blast you through a wall (and when you were doing everything possible to get that same person to _acknowledge_ you).

Cursing (mentally) I stood ready again, when he made the motion for me to attack him, I didn't budge. Scott gave the same signal and I gave the same response.

"Move, Kookie."

I felt bratty, but not to the point of sticking out my tongue (yet), "No."

"Why not?"

"Because." Told you I felt like a brat.

"That's not an answer." Scott decided, as if he was talking to a three year old. "Attack."

I stood my ground. "No."

He seemed upset. Mr. Logan seemed amused.

A few minutes ticked by and no one moved. Finally, Scott seemed fed up with waiting and turned around to grab his towel from the handle bar. I lunged.

Too bad the whole room was surrounded by mirrors and therefore made it impossible to sneak up on any one. He looked up in enough time to see me, turned, grabbed my wrist in a painful hold and started to throw me. Before I was airborne once again, I did get a good, forceful kick to his ribs in.

I landed, smashing against the balance beams (which was _not _pleasant! Wood did not make for a soft cushion). As I lay on my head and shoulders, my knees curled up as I was in some odd fetal position, I had to wonder why none of the mirrors ever broke in this place.

"Nice go, kid," Mr. Logan complimented, lighting a cigar. Two seconds later Scott was griping at him about setting off the fire alarms to have Mr. Logan leave with a roll of his eyes.

Crossing my arms, I stayed in my upside down, propped up fetal position.

"Aren't you going to move?" Scott asked finally, dropping a towel in front of me.

"I was thinking about it." After a minute all the blood ended up in my face and I flipped to an upright position.

"You should really re-think your maneuvers. That was cocky and careless. One mistake on the field like that and hitting the wall will take on a whole new meaning." That translated into Kookiesse as: You didn't do well enough, try again later.

"But on the 'field' we won't be the first to move when someone is _watching_, will we?" It was meant to be a statement but ended up being a question as my nerve dissolved.

"You never know the circumstances you'll face on the field; you have to be prepared for everything." Even giant, nose eating slugs which look like the guys from _Jersey Shore_? How the _heck _was I supposed to prepare for that!

* * *

"Kerry, can't you control your teammate?"

Yeah, just about as much as Scott can control Mr. Logan.

"Hey, I've suggested taking her out back and burying her, but you keep saying it's wrong for some reason." Julie glowered at me, I smirked, and her glower got darker.

It was diner and it was pizza. The only reason I left my room was because it was pizza, I hadn't been eating like I should (and Mr. Warren would be the first one to say so) but pizza just called to me. It sounded a lot like a pig call actually.

Julie was acting up again; she decided to 'fry' Chris with a certain purplish flame. He got upset and then the entire electronic system around the room started to flicker. Professor told them in bigger words to knock it off.

So eyes went to me. I shrugged and just kept on grinning and Julie noticed and looked unnerved. Oh, I had plans for this little creature. In fact, after dinner Professor suggested that the juvenile team (us, how dare he call us children-er, juvenile. If I was called a juvenile I at least wanted 'delinquent' after it!) should practice. I held Adrian and Chris back from going, telling them they didn't have to be here (Julie had already gone in to the Danger Room).

The look on her face was priceless as it slowly dawned on her that it was only going to be the two of us.

"Where are the others?" I took to the air after her question.

"Oh, they're not coming."

"Then I'm out of here, I don't want to be flung around for no reason." I couldn't help but smirk as she marched to the door and started to punch in the opening sequence. After a few tries she turned to me (as I circled above), fists clenched. "What the hell did you do!"

"Oh, did I forget to mention that I changed the override code? You see, Cyclops promotes changing our passwords and since I _am_the leader of the X-Citers-," it sunk in. I could almost see the moment when her mind sponged it up.

"Bloody hell-"

Let the games begin!

Twenty minutes later, "Get away from me!" Julie screamed. I was thinking that was going to be her catch phrase while living in the mansion and as part of my team. She tried to flame me with a bright black fire, but I easily dodged it, swooped upwards and circled around her. She grumbled something about stupid people and birds of prey.

"Why don't you just agree?"

"Because I don't have to!" she screeched, attempting to flame me again. Her flames where broad and not really targeted, so they were easy to dodge without really thinking about it.

"I can circle here for a few hours you realize." Hopefully she wouldn't call my bluff. My wings were strong enough to circle for about an hour more, but hours? Yeah right! Mr. Warren said it quite plainly that I would eventually be faster than he, but as for long distance? He'd remain the trophy holder.

Another twenty minutes ticked by and she slowly began to dwindle. It was kind of sad to look at. Within the next ten minutes Julie, sassy, never shut up Julie, was on her knees.

Landing (to give myself rest) I made sure to stay far enough away to have dodging room. From what Dr. Hank informed me of about a week ago was that Julie was a high level empath. He told me to think of her as a girl with constant PMS times twenty (and then times it by the largest number able to type be typed into a calculator).

There was, naturally, a catch to her powers. Her emotions, for the most part, relied on others. She was always near love, near a nervous breakdown, near depression, near happiness but never really there because it was all borrowed-or stolen.

I kept my distance from the girl, watching as she pitched forward to her hands and knees. This small sadistic devil on my shoulder smiled lovingly at the sight of seeing such a high and mighty girl near to passing out.

The superior smirk I hated so much ended up my face.

"You little emotional leach," I said coldly while she continued to breath erratically. "You're starving, aren't you?"

"Shut-up," Julie gasped out. "Th-This isn't any of-your concern." That dang smirk got deeper. "Oh really? Then I guess I'll just go-"

"_No_!" Julie's voice sounded lighter (not to mention pleading) like a little kid's voice.

Turning on my heel, I stared down at her.

"Then answer my question."

She cringed, pushing herself back to a position where she was sitting on her ankles, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she shook her head no. "I can't! I won't! You can't make me!"

If the smirk was something I couldn't stand, the next thing on my list was the eyebrow lift (which I also did).

"I can't, but I can. I can sit in here until you either blab or pass out. Since I don't feel like dragging you around the mansion, I'd suggest you talk."

"Why are you doing this, git?" I was starting to get concerned, her breathing was shallow. If she didn't stop it, she'd end up light headed and then Julie would really pass out. "W-what kind of sick creep are you?"

I didn't answer. I wasn't going to be baited. Instead, I gave her another question, "What's with the gloves?"

"F-fashion statement."

"You're lying."

"No bloody kidding!" She ground out. I kept repeating my question for what seemed like forever, until the expected unexpected happened. Julie passed out on the floor. And-I couldn't shake her awake.

I was going to be so dead.


	72. Push n' Pull

**Lucky Me**

**Chapter 072**

* * *

"Julie, so help me if you're faking this I'm going to strangle you and make it look like an accident!" The girl didn't flinch or even twitch a muscle.

I was more annoyed than scared.

Then I remembered I was going to probably have to face the Professor, Cyclops and Storm about this. Suddenly the fear soaked into my brain. My first instinct told me to call the airlines, book a one-way flight to the Bahamas, and never come back.

My second thought was that maybe I should call a funeral home for dead girl on the floor.

Not dead, I noted. She was still breathing after all.

Dang that meant I had to get a doctor. Not that I wanted her dead, I wasn't that sadistic (or cruel, or demented, you get the point). I felt a sick smirk come on my face; at least someone was having a worse day than me for a change.

Oh yeah, the doctor.

Dr. Hank! If he was a creature of habit, I knew he'd still be in his lab. Walking, not running (that would attract too much attention) down the halls. I felt relieved to see the great blue man hunched over a tiny microscope.

"Dr. Hank?" He turned and gave me a toothy smile.

"Miss Summers! To what do I owe this honor? Usually the only time I see you is when you're bleeding or in need of an explanation." He seemed to think about something, "or when someone _else_ is bleeding and you need to _give_ an explanation."

Ignoring that, I started to laugh nervously, "uh, looks like you've got some time on your hands." Suddenly calling the airlines was looking much better.

This got his curiosity as he tipped his head to the side, "I don't have any pressing matters currently."

"I have the perfect thing to perk up a slow night."

"_Hank_!" Oh crap. That was Sam. The shout sounded like it was coming from the general direction of the Danger Room.

I think there was a phone in this lab somewhere; I still could call for a plane ticket. . .

"If you'll pardon me for the briefest of moments." The furry doctor bounded by me. I _really_ wanted to make a run for the front door, instead (being the idiot) I followed the doctor down the hall back to the Danger Room.

By the time I got there, Dr. Hank was already checking for a pulse before scooping Julie up in his arms.

When he caught sight of me he glowered, "is this the perk?"

There was no happiness in his voice (much like the time I threw my shoe at Bobby-Jerk and destroyed one of the science projects he had been working on).

I was so _so_ dead.

* * *

"That was irresponsible! Julie could have really been hurt!" One day later and I was getting personally chewed from ear to toe by Scott. "What were you thinking? _Were _you thinking? You were put in charge to look after the welfare of your teammates not create their downfall!"

He went on seething and I felt my tears start to sting my eyes, "S-Scott-"

"_Don't_!" He snapped. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Blyt. You should have known better than trying some crackpot stunt like that. Did- you even stop to think if this was the most reasonable way to approach her?"

He glared down at me from where I stood, my feet nervously doing a half dance. My whole body was shaking from over emotion. I wanted the emotion sponge (Julie) there to soak up some of my surplus.

Professor only 'tsked' me because he knew what I was up to. He did say I went too far, but to say anymore would also hold him in contempt. Jean had tried to calm Scott down as he told me to meet him in one of the ready rooms. Trust me, the room didn't make you anywhere _near _ready.

This one-sided butchery lasted about ten minutes so far. Going from 'what were you thinking' to incoherent grunts of frustration.

It wasn't like Julie was permanently hurt. In fact there was _nothing _physically wrong with her, Dr. Hank could only theorize that her empathy must have caused her fainting spell. Julie was out and about again early the next morning in fact.

Finally, after not being able to take it anymore I screamed in my mind for Jean to come and rescue me. She came in a moment later, trying to tame the reign in the savage beast and allowing me have an opportunity to flee.

I slipped out and ran to my room. I heard Miss Ororo ask what was wrong and then I heard the same question come from a few other people. All I wanted was to get to my room before the tears started to be too noticeable.

Once in my room I slammed the door, leaned against, and then slowly slid down. I wrapped my arms around my knees and cried.

* * *

"What the hell did he do to you now?" Chris whispered, always so tactful.

"Who is he?" I croaked out (though still in a whisper, it sounded like the dying words from a frog), last night must have drained me more than I cared to admit.

Chris' face twisted into utter disgust, "If that idiot did anything I'll-"

"Do nothing." I finished, "It wasn't _him_. It was," I nodded my head in Scott's direction.

Following my general nod, Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh man, not _him _again."

I got defensive, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm sick of hearing you cry over that egotistical airbag."

My mouth opened, but what came out was not the retort I was thinking, "Y-you can hear me?"

He stiffened instantly.

"Uh, yeah. So what if I can?" Always on defense. There were several very nasty little comments floating around on my tongue. Instead I just gave him a smile that was a _nice_ smile (at least I thought so; I knew this girl when she smiled it made you ask yourself if you remembered to write out a will).

"Thanks."

He seemed to be thrust into an uncertain zone as he found the person across the table interesting, "For what?"

"Not making a fuss, not embarrassing me." I let my smile stay on my lips for a mere second more, "'cause if you ever told anyone, I'd kill you."

"Yeah, right." Chris rolled his eyes and gave me another odd expression before pulling his attention to Stacey, who had started to rant about teenage hormones again.

Wonder what _her _problem was?

* * *

Doomsday had finally arrived.

The day when Scott and Storm had reached a decision about the Julie situation, not the yelling at the Prof in front of everyone situation.

Oh, and Daisy still had to wear her tin collar and stayed mostly in her room or the sub basement. Julie made a full recovery and been acting stranger ever since. The girl who used to plow through everyone in the hall way was suddenly saying 'sorry' and 'excuse me' for barely brushing clothing.

The girl was odd and because she just _had_ to go and pass out, I was in trouble.

Once again I found myself in the so-called 'Ready Room' facing the demon side of my 'parent'. Arms crossed, jaw set, and muscles tensed. Oh goody, I was going to walk out of here limping (or in a body bag-correction, _bags_. There was no way they were going to leave me in one piece.)

Miss Ororo started to calmly explain the reasons why I was there and what it was I should learn from the 'punishment' they were going to put on me.

"You realize, Blyt, that when you have to manually remove a teammate from an exercise you have to face the consequences to your actions. We have discussed this and, in the past, have been put in similar situations as you find yourself in now."

I kept my eyes forward, shoulders squared and waited for my death sentence (anyone else getting the feeling I shouldn't be allowed to breathe without asking permission first?).

"We are going to allow you to-defend yourself on this matter if you so chose." Huh? They were going to let me talk _freely_? Without worrying about having my head gnawed on by the angry Scott beast? I think someone slipped them something!

I was afraid to start fidgeting for any reason. I had to look like an adult at that moment and showing nervous habits was considered childish. Realizing, also, that if I stood my ground, the nuclear holocaust of Scott's temper probably wouldn't be as harsh (at least it wouldn't show its effects on the _outside _of me).

"I'm-not going to apologize for my intentions," I spoke slowly and in a controlled voice. I was afraid if Scott said two bad words to me together I was going to break down and cry (again). "Perhaps I could have done it differently, but there is nothing wrong with my _intentions_."

"And what were your intentions?"

"My intentions _are_," I clarified, to let them know I was still going to pursue this, "to get information from Julie regarding her past."

"And simply asking her, did you think of that?" I snorted and Storm's face thawed a bit.

"You've talked to her; she's not exactly the friendliest person in the world."

"That still does not give you the right to treat her the way you did." Cyclops kept a hold on his stubborn, biased view of the situation.

Irritated, "I never laid a finger on her." I sighed and muttered under my breath, "and yet if it was _you_ who did this there wouldn't be a problem."

"What?" That word had to be created in the darkest, coldest part of Antarctica. Why did this man have the best hearing? I thought Mr. Logan was the only one around that had that 'can hear a fly sneeze and ruin a beer in a down town Manhattan bar on a Friday night in the middle of happy hour' hearing.

I was smart and choose not to reply.

"Why did you feel it necessary to even interrogate her?" Storm asked.

My shoulders sagged a fraction. "B-Because I saw what happened with Daisy when we-I didn't dig deeper though I knew something was going on." I cast my eyes downward, "I don't want to have to put my team through that again."

A few moments of silence passed and it finally got to me. Glancing up I saw them turned toward one another and caught in a passionate embrace (ha-ha, made you scared!). No, when I looked up they were turned toward each other quietly talking. Couldn't they kick me out of the room like they normally did? Why did they have to talk about me when I was right _there_?

Not that I could hear anything, mind you.

For all I knew they could be talking about what was on television tonight, but after another few minutes they faced me again.

"Blyt," Storm started, "you realize what you did was inappropriate, correct?"

"Only in method." And only in theory.

"Good, then you shall not be punished for your actions. Next time, take more caution when trying to—draw out information from a fellow team member." There was something in her smile, which lead me to believe she'd 'played' with her teammates in similar manners before (and yet probably never got punished. Would you _really_ want to tick someone off who can fry your feathers by simply willing it?)

There was no controlling my face as shock and surprise hit me squarely in the chest. Another time I did something stupid and wasn't going to get into trouble about it? _Wow_! Well, the Professor said he'd wait until I found my 'block' about accepting my mutant ability, but that was all details.

Miss Ororo gave me a small smile and a soft pat on the shoulder as she left the room. I was still in too much shock to budge. Scott was just standing there, and then, then he gave a miniscule sigh and followed Storm out.

Di-Did they just _not _get upset? Did this just happen? Someone give me a frying pan to make sure I was not making this up!

* * *

Once again, we were in the Danger Room. And like always, we were put in the most ridiculous of scenarios to 'be prepared for anything'. My eyebrows ticked in irritation, apparently Jean or the Prof. got into my mind at some point during the batter and bruise Kookie fiasco Scott put me through a few days ago.

We were staring at the cast of _Jersey Shore _ look-a-likes who were actually nose eating slugs.

I kept my distance from Julie (though I wouldn't have minded deforming her appearance by letting a slug have her nose). Chris was frying, Adrian was slicing, and I was circling.

Occasionally I would get brave enough to attack one of the slug things, but after I got part of their face caught on my new claws—er, _talons_ I decided to stick to circling and delegating.

At the end of the session, Scott was waiting outside in the hall. I thought he was going to start fussing about something, but instead he turned to Adrian and Julie (the girl accused Adrian of slashing one of the slugs next to her and therefore getting her gooey).

"Good job you two, keep up the excellent work."

I was in front of them, but when I heard that I spun around so quickly Chris got a face full of feathers. My mouth hung open as Adrian smiled and said 'thanks' (Julie grunted) and then Scott disappeared into the Danger Room.

_Argh_!

They didn't do _anything _and they were getting compliments? I was busting my feathery black behind and he only criticized me! I felt so angry that it got Julie's attention.

She smirked, "Somebody's jealous."

I ground my teeth together and stormed to my room.

Life stunk!

* * *

Friday and I was jabbing another heaping spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. If Scott came in and said a _word _about my snack, I was likely to 'practice' with on him with my talons.

I was still miffed (putting it feather lightly) about the whole compliment thing, which Scott had given to the other two. _Argh_! I was the one working myself to insanity, sure they might have been too, but did they have to hear nonstop about the horrible job they were doing?

No.

Sitting in the rec. room watching some lame music video about guys and girls or something like that, I huffed. Chris was in the video/DVD nook digging for a movie that had been on his mind all day. Something about an angel, a doctor, and music in the sun. I really didn't care at that precise moment.

"Oh no, she's broken into the ice cream." I shot a glare in Jack's (though he wasn't wearing the image inducer) general direction as he came into the rec. room.

"You better watch it."

"Yikes, someone really did ruffle your feathers." _Glare_. "Okay, okay, so what's wrong now?"

_Now_? Was he implying that I normally had things 'wrong' with me? Did I change so fast that he couldn't keep up?

I shook my head; it wasn't _his _fault (for once).

"Just—things."

"Ah, well, then maybe I can get your mind off of 'things' next Saturday, if you want." He tried to say it in a way that screamed deeper meaning but I knew he was just 'shy' (ha-ha) about asking.

"Sure why not, I'm guessing you're going to be using your image inducer, right?"

"You bet! Well, I'll leave you to—" he tipped his head to the side watching the television, "—_this_. Bye."

My rapid Cookies n' Cream hog feast started to slow (my stomach was turning green from trying to hold in two mini-cartons of ice-cream, a bag of Oreos, four cans of Mountain Dew and two Reese's peanut butter cups. How'd I get all this? Let's just say I basically had to sign away my first born to Paige.) This would be the third time 'Jack' and I would go on yet another friend date.

It was weird, but it was nice to be a normal teenager for a few hours every week. I smiled.

Life still stunk, but there was some air freshener getting sprayed to cover up the smell.

* * *

"I have to go back _where_?"

Professor tapped the end of his designer pen on the edge of his expensive desk, "to Dr. Frese's."

Yeah okay, so I _did _hear right. I just was in complete disbelief. Chewing over in my mind how long it would take for Adam to whip up another disgusting character on an image inducer, the Professor spoke up again.

"Not for _your_ sake," although I was sure he'd love it to have been. "But for Daisy's. She originally requested Julie, but due to her—unstable condition I am hesitant with the prospect of-" Having an emotion controlling girl get her knickers in a twist? "A situation arising."

"So-I have to go to this session for moral support?"

"For strength."

Give her Jack Daniels, that'd give her strength (and a hangover or so I was told).

* * *

I smirked and crossed my arms over my chest.

If I had felt a slight discomfort coming back to the psychiatrist's office, Dr. Frese looked like she just stuffed her bra with hot coals and then sat on a rather large, pointed object. I wasn't even wearing a fake image and I still freaked her out!

Oh, the power! The _power_!

"You're Daisy, correct?"

The normally perky girl next to me on the couch squished her face up in distaste.

"I prefer, Daisy-Mae."

"All right, Daisy-Mae then." Dr. Frese looked over at me nervously, gave a quick smile and promptly examined her papers. Daisy was supposed to be here for two freakin' hours.

I would personally rather pluck off every hair on my head and feather on my wings than sit here and try not to fall asleep. D-M was talking rapidly about all sorts of things (I think, I wasn't really paying that close of attention). Dr. Frese got into the habit of the 'smile and nod' method of listening (meaning she wasn't really listening either).

The one thing that _did _catch my attention was what the 'good' doctor had to say about the next session.

Two little words stuck out in this whole conversation they held. My mind refused to move on (and for once my mouth refused to move) and Miss Rogue drove us both back to the mansion before it really registered.

When it _did _sink in, I got peeved.

I got angry.

In other words, I stood in the middle of the male wing and started to make an idiot out of myself as I screamed out, "What the _freak_ does she mean _group therapy!_"


	73. Cyclops' Blight

Lucky Me Chapter 73 

* * *

2:30 a.m. 

I sat up in my bed so fast I felt my brain spin. 

Sweat was covering me, and my sheet was bunched up at the foot of my bed. My dumb cat didn't even have the decency to look at me. I probably would have kicked the dumb thing off the bed if I hadn't been shaking so badly from the dream. 

For some reason, the same dream-memory kept happening. I remember when it happened the first time at the mansion. After the dream I had been so shaken that I ended up with my head in a toilet. 'Jack' holding my hair back… 

…back… 

I shook my head. I don't care for 'subliminal' messages. They're more trouble than they're worth most of the time. 

Sighing, I decided NOT to even attempt sleep at this moment. I would probably end up screaming or something if the nightmare returned. Noting that I was still fully dressed in my clothes from the day before, I pushed the mental and physical exhaustion off of me. I've been tired since April; I guess it was really starting to hit me hard. 

The creature of fur and evil made a noise and I answered it with a glare. 

It started to purr. The cat is just WRONG on so many levels. I guess any guy would be wrong if his, uhm, equipment went missing. 

To pass the time and to get away from the nightmare that had been plaguing me, I decided that some good old video games were in order. Adrian and Chris got me hooked on this thing. I couldn't beat any of the games, but it was always fun to fuss at the little guy who I was playing about doing something wrong. Like it was REALLY his fault I was losing (well it was!). 

Of course what would an "UP All Night" party for one be without some refreshments? I stole from the hidden stash that I recently discovered in one of the back, back parts of a cabinet where only spiders and desperate girls would go. So with a cookie in my mouth, and the controller in my hand I happily pounded some snake-lizard looking guy back down the evolutionary chain with a REALLY big sword. 

I had been there for about an hour when my heart stopped at the sound of a cold male voice. "What are you doing up?" 

Swallowing my cookie, I turned my head slowly over (like he was going to suddenly run away if I did it slow enough). "Huh?" Contribute it to the lateness of the hour (or earliness, whatever) that my brain was not putting the Legos of thoughts together correctly. 

"What. Are. You. Doing. Up." 

I winced. "I, uh, had a---" what? A nightmare? Wouldn't that sound mature! I am being trained to kick the ugliest, meanest, most poorly dressed people in the world and I'm freaking out over a nightmare?! Sheesh! That would be smart! Lower myself in Scott's eyes and my team's (because you know those little rumor leaches would find out eventually). 

I turned off the game numbly, packed up my things and started to leave with my head hung. But Scott wasn't done with me yet. "Is this why you haven't been able to give your best in the Danger Room and the like? Because you are staying up all night instead of resting?" 

"DON'T." I admonished, letting my shoulders square and my grip on the items in my hand increase. "DON'T say that." The tears and anger came on at the same time. "How can you even stand there and have the nerve to think that?" My tone was becoming more and more like cold fire, burning with anger but also leaving ice in my voice. A truly amazing tone (and one to fear, I would like to flatter myself) to accomplish when I was this frazzled. 

"What would you have me thinking, Blight?" He was in Cyclops, General and Saint of the X-Men mode. 

Oh that was it! I was nowhere NEAR costume and far enough from the Danger Room I wouldn't be able to hear the crashing and bashing. Yet he still called me BLIGHT. I hate that girl! I hate Blight! I am KOOKIE. I started to shake with anger and frustration. 

"Bli---Kookie. What's wrong?" IDIOT! 

"What do you think, SCOTT?" I screamed and turned my head to look over my shoulder, eyes narrowed. "Do you even know the difference between Kookie and Blight?" 

"What are you---" 

"It's KOOKIE," I snapped. "NOT Blight. Blight and Kookie are two different people! Blight is the one who has to talk to Cyclops. BLIGHT is the one who keeps getting in trouble because Cyclops doesn't think she can do anything right. Blight is the one who can never freaking do anything to get his approval because he doesn't know that Blight isn't perfect! No matter how much she tries to be, Blight is still human!" 

I felt my tears start to sting my eyes almost ready for fall, almost! 

"D-do you even KNOW who Kookie IS?" I asked, my tone reaching that barely audible tone. It was still cold fire, but more like a compressed cold fire. Like an intelligent man, he stayed silent. "Kookie is the one who hasn't been getting enough sleep because she has been trying to make Scott happy with her progress." 

"Kookie is the one who has been busting her brain, life and body to try to make Scott pro--- happy for her! I can't imagine her GIVING anymore! The only thing she has left is her blood! Do you want to drink it? Or wouldn't that be good enough either? I'm not even sure it's circulating anymore because it might not be good enough for Scott." 

His eyebrows snapped up, and then lowered, if I had cared, I would have noticed where his focus was. 

"Kookie is the girl who has no other ---father figure left in the world to look up to but Scott. " 

There was a silence, so uneasy and weird and UNWANTED that I had to finally bow my head. The tears were threatening to overflow and the final break came from what he said next. 

His voice was soft and suddenly filled with regret but he---he said it again! "Bli-" 

He didn't get it! He still didn't get it! I started to cry hard at that point. I didn't want him to see me cry, Cyclops only wanted Blight but then I still didn't want to seem weak. I still cared about what he thought and it made me even more pathetic in my own mind. 

I turned away from him and started to run away, but I bumped into the crowd I didn't even realize had collected. I didn't care! I pushed past them and ran straight to my room. I probably looked like every single teen drama rolled up into one and I didn't care. 

Scott could have made it all better like Dad's are suppose to do! 

"Kerry?" 

I didn't even realize I had gotten to my door and, instead of going in I had my hand on the doorknob and my head resting on the door. Tears were coming down in rivers. I have had this building up for what felt like forever. I didn't have the heart to turn around, so the person did it for me. 

"Kerry?" HE asked again, softly. "What's wron--?" I didn't give him time to ask anymore. I crashed into him, gripping onto HIM like I was going to get sucked into the big black void of nothingness if I didn't. 

I'm not Blight, not all the time. 

My name is Kookie now. 

Kookie----Summers. 

* * *

10:17 a.m. 

I should be proud of my team for not being so easily scammed. 

After reality slammed into me (yesterday), I marched to D-M's door and told her not to even THINK about telling the others about the little 'therapy' trip in the very near future (today). She merely nodded and said 'yes ma'am' which left me feeling old. I went back to my room, grabbed a pillow and started to scream at the top of my lungs. 

The day following (today) I was stuck in the Danger Room (yes, we are really getting THAT much forced practice in) and while trying to be little Miss Pound Anything Not Wearing an 'X' I was also casting myself in the role of 'nice-nice' girl. 

Apparently, Dr. Frese wanted ALL of the members (past and present) at this meeting. That meant I had to get one nice guy, a semi-nice guy and two thickheaded stubborn mules to go to this thing willingly. Of course, I was always leaving the option open that Dr. Hank would lend me some tranquilizers. 

Back to the Danger Room, this time we were fighting Sentinels. Much to my relief we were able to bring one down but like all monsters, when one fell it's brothers came seeking revenge. I'd even talked Adam into dawning his uniform for this practice. 

That was the first hint something was up, or so Chris would tell me. 

After managing to drag another Sentinel down, Professor told us that our team work had improved, but still needed work. He couldn't have said anything more perfect than that at the moment (and I have a feeling he planned it that way). 

"Man, this stinks." Chris muttered, walking towards the locker rooms. "I hate machines." 

Adam must have taken offense, "machines are very helpful! It's simply ignorance to say something like that…" He faded off in my hearing (short attention spans are sometimes helpful). Scratching my hand nervously, I attempted to think of putting 'hey we ALL need to go to the shrink, isn't that fun?' into a more acceptable manner. 

Reaching the locker rooms, it was now or never (considering that the appointment was today, Friday), "Uhm, guys?" 

They turned around to look at me. Thankfully D-M was still 'out of action' and didn't have to give me any sympathetic smirks although Julie's 'dry wit' as she put it made up for lack of sympathy (and would explain my tendencies to want to HURT her). 

"I am not a guy." Julie corrected. "I am what is known as a lady." 

Chris snorted, "so are some drag queens." 

"Anyway, I had something that I wanted to tell you---" 

"DRAG queen? I ought to make your lust levels so high that you fancy anything breathing attractive!" Julie was fuming and because of her power there was literally flames dancing around her head and hands. 

One eye half closed stare, "nothing could ever make me attracted to YOU. So stop looking for excuses to get me to try." 

The flames suddenly got a LOT higher and even blacker. Oh goody, she was livid. "STOP! Stop it NOW!" 

That turned off the flames and turned all eyes to me. I really didn't want to go into 'Scott mode' for this, but they left me no choice, "after you change we will met in the Ready Room." With that I pushed open the door, paused, saw Northstar staring at me, blushed, turned around and stomped through the door again. Adrian's eyebrows had shot up, I muttered under my breath and went to the OTHER locker room door, the one that was labeled 'women'. 

* * *

10:37 a.m. 

Sure, the glare was a great help! 

Oh! Oh! Even better, the classic arms crossed over the chest maneuver. Yeah, this was productive! 

"Group THERAPY?" I wasn't sure if I should bust out laughing like some kind of maniac, or break down and start tearing things apart. That was the fourth time I heard that question. 

"Yes." 

"Like hell." Thank you, Chris. 

"No bloody way," Julie snapped out. Whatever possessed her a few days ago to be skittish was completely gone now. 

"I'm with her. We don't need a shrink telling us what's what." Adrian popped off. 

"Why?" Adam, always the logical scientific Adam. "What good will it do?" 

Man, I was REALLY not going to like pulling this nasty little guilt trip trick. If the four in front of me were just a little more agreeable and didn't shoot down the idea before they understood it I wouldn't have to sink to this method! 

"The Professor thinks its an excellent idea to work on our team dynamics." There was an almost complete groan from the group. "And it's to help Daisy." Complete and utter silence. Sometimes these people were just TOO easy. "Dr. Frese thinks if we were all there that it would help everyone to understand what happened and to help understand each other. Our team member is in need, we are going to help her." 

They grumblingly agreed to do it after that little point was made. It was a relief; of course they didn't need to know I spent all yesterday fuming and fighting this. All they needed to THINK they knew was that I was mature enough to handle going back to the doctor's office instead of what I did do---throw things around my room and grumble.

* * *

12:00 p.m. 

Chris kept trying all day to get me to open up about why I seemed so down. If I had been in my room the entire night, perhaps he would have something to worry about. Instead, Jack led me back to his room saying that Scott would never look for me there. I didn't want to see Scott at this moment. Just THINKING about what had happened made my heart hurt in a way no one should feel from their parents. 

When I had seen Scott after convincing my team to go, I almost broke down again but I ran away quickly afterwards. Scott tried to call me back, but I didn't want to listen. I spent most of the time flying around the school because I knew he wouldn't be able to 'talk' to me up there. 

Jean had driven the van with us all piled up in it. I purposefully sat furthest away from her as well. They were a pair, if one was under fire so was the other one. 

But back to a lighter note. We were all at Dr. Frese's staring at the woman who smiled back at us with the fakest grin I ever been on the receiving end of. What I didn't want to happen, happened---the 'good' doctor started to talk. 

"I'm very pleased to see you all here and with such cheerful faces." The woman has been prescribing herself medicine again. "I would like to start by asking the group a few questions." 

There wasn't a pair of brown, green or blue eyes that didn't roll. I left out Adam because he's too sweet to be upset. 

"Now, I heard there are certain problems within your little 'clique'. I would like to hear more about them." You know the theory that if you start at the top of the mountain with a tiny snowball it'll just get bigger and bigger? Yeah well…"Don't be shy." 

"Julie is a little witch with a capital B," Chris said plainly. That was the tiny snowball. 

"Better than being a love sick loser!" Julie snapped back. I could have SWORN I saw Chris blush slightly. 

"No, that would be Adrian," Daisy said quietly, "at least the loser part." 

"What'd I ever do to you!?" 

Needless to say it escalated from there. Adam only smiled nervously and kept looking towards the door for his chance of escape. I kept trying to keep my mind from going back to Scott. They continued to bicker for about ten minutes before the snowball the size of Brazil came slamming into me. 

"I've never heard any of you raise a complaint against Kookie." She leaned forward, completely ignoring my glare. Everyone else shifted their eyes to me. "Are all of you scared of Kookie?" WHAT THE HECK!? 

"Er…sort of." 

"She has the ability to be scary." 

"Only when she gets ticked--or depressed---or happy." 

GEE, thanks! 

"And you, Chris?" 

"No. I'm not afraid of Blight or Kookie." I felt like being scary right now by breaking things over heads. 

"Is it because of her disturbing image when she shows her true form?" I chocked. There was no WAY I was going to clarify that. "Without the image inducer?" 

Adam answered, "What? Why would we? She looks like an angel." 

"Angel of death." Julie just couldn't help herself I suppose. 

Dr. Frese got caught off guard with Adam's reply. I started to snicker at her. Poor clueless yet WELL paid doctor. 

"You don't find her natural form, disturbing?" 

"What are you smoking?" Adrian asked with an eyebrow raised. "Kookie doesn't ever look like a freak." 

"You don't live next door to her. I've seen her in the early morning." Chris shot and some of them began to laugh. I was going to put them through a nightmare next time I got them into the Danger Room! 

Adam was the first to catch my promise of death look and suddenly they all shut up! Dr. Frese then kicked me out of the session! I was kicked out! Because I blocked the emotions from flowing freely. To get to the bottom of their problems, she had to make sure there wasn't any intimidation effecting them. 

I was so irritated that I didn't even realize who I plopped next to in the chairs. When a flash of red caught my peripheral vision, I started to get up to move. Jean's hand on my arm stopped me. 

"Kerry, wait." I stiffened. 

"I thought it was Blight to you people." Okay, I know it is petty to be mad at people who know the true person you're upset with…but I snapped out the sentence before my brain could do anything about it. 

My eyes stayed locked on the door where my team members were, only because the door was directly in front of me. I heard her sigh in what I could only guess was frustration (well she could just join the club!). 

"I--heard what happened between you and Scott this morning." Yeah, so? I don't doubt people I never met but wore the X symbol for the grand total of three seconds knows what happened between me and Scott this morning! 

"Point?" And I know she has plenty of them to give! I don't doubt it, she always does. "Are you going to try to get us to kiss and make up?" 

"Quite the opposite." Okay, I had to lose the 'cold-shoulder' look in order to stared at the red head with my best shocked expression ever. She smiled and gave a small quiet laugh, "Why so surprised?" 

Because you people are always in my business! Not to mention you and Scott are the whole one body and (quite literally) one mind. "Then---what are you going to do?" 

"Nothing." No questions needed to be asked as she got the serious look about her once more. "I'm tired of playing mediator between the two of you." You mean nosey telephone operator! "Scott's never been the easiest to understand, he had been through a lot in his life." And what? I've had it easy? "I think it would benefit you both to resolve this, and as soon as possible." 

I stuck my little nose in the air. 

She sighed again, shaking her head. "Alex and you would have gotten along so well." 

Grr! Jean sure knows how to make a girl curious! "Who's an 'Alex'?" 

"Scott's little brother, his Darcy." I went to stone at my sister's name. "Alex, from the moment he found Scott again, was always looking up to him. Their father and mother was thought to be dead, so Scott was the closest figure to a father Alex had." Jean smiled sort of sadly, "you know the frustration of trying to get Scott to tell you something positive when he drives you to a breaking point. Alex always felt like he was walking in Scott's shadow, never good enough for his big brother's approval, just something to batter with words and speeches about how to 'improve' himself." 

So it must be any family member. "Where is Alex?" Uncle Alex? Someone want to help me clarify this? 

"Dead." 

Uh, from stress of trying to live up to Scott's level? Oh! Bad timing for a bad joke! Darn my defense mechanism! "Oh." 

"Ask Scott about it, whenever you talk to him again." 

Yeah, like when I'm choosing his nursing home. If at all possible, I wasn't going to talk to Scott again until he was too old that he had to gum a kernel of corn for twenty minutes before swallowing! 

It took another thirty minutes before my team (some of it) emerged from the depths of the crazy cave. "She wants to see you." Adam smiled, unnervingly might I add. Only Adam, Adrian, Julie and D-M came out. Chris was still in there. Taking a deep breath I walked into the den of fools. 

"Kookie, please have a seat. Oh, not over there, sit by Chris if you wouldn't mind." I did as she asked (first time for everything I suppose). "Now, I have been talking with your friends and I have decided to start at the one with the less problems concerning you." 

And here I thought this was suppose to be helping D-M. The wacky woman must have read my mind or something because she popped off with, "An understanding team, is a happy team." 

And an annoying doctor is a pained doctor. 

"Shall we begin? Now, it appears to me that Adam stated he really didn't have any issues to deal with regarding you, Kookie. I usually consider that denial, but then he informed me that he will be leaving the mansion. Is that true?" 

"Check your tape recorder." Chris answered darkly. Dr. Frese glared over at him for a brief nanosecond before slathering on her fake sugary grin and directly her freakiness back at me. 

"Now, Kookie, what problems do you see with, Chris?" 

Oh sure, put me on the spot! "Uh, I don't have problems with Chris." Besides the point that I THINK he might still have a miniscule crush on me. But THAT isn't important, right? Right! 

"Chris, how do you feel about that?" 

Oh man! This was going to take forever! 

* * *

3:13 p.m. 

Three teammates later (Chris, D-M, and Adrian later to be precise) I sat on the couch begging for the light fixture to fall from the ceiling and knock me out. If I heard that question 'how does it make you feel ' one more time I was going to crack. 

Julie was now sitting beside me shooting me looks that screamed, 'is this lady for real?'. 

After stating her problems with me (Julie, not Dr. Frese) which mainly consisted of me trying to kill her on different occasions the doctor looked at me and AGAIN asked, "how does that make you feel?" 

"Homicidal. Why don't we turn out the lights and see who's left to turn them on?" Julie's eyes about made the lenses from her sunglasses pop out and Dr. Frese shifted nervously in her chair. 

Clearing her throat, "does this steam from your low self-esteem regarding your looks? Is it because Julie is naturally more---visually acceptable? Better looking, in lay man's terms, than you?" 

OH GAG! That---that was just wrong! I was being chocked by this ladies words and the air in my throat. This was NOT happening! Julie smirked, crossed her arms and started talking. I have never wanted to hurt some one SO much (well, the last time I really wanted to hurt someone it was Julie, I'm catching on to a pattern here). 

"Of course she is!" Julie's nose went skyward, "that and the fact that her little Daddy-dearest gave me some encouraging words and didn't say a bloody thing to her." Must. Not. Kill! It would be hard to dispose of the body since there was only one exit. "She had so much jealousy rolling off her, it almost matched his pride that he felt when she----" Her mouth clamped shut. 

My eyes tried to escape their sockets. "Pride?" 

She muttered something under her breath. "I'm not saying." 

Dr. Frese carried on from there. I was still in a state of shock over Julie's half confession. But it couldn't possibly be true! It couldn't be! I was the bad apple in his perfect tree! Scott wouldn't be proud of a screw up. OH that mean little tea drinker! She's probably making it all up!

* * *

6:34 p.m. 

"How'd it go?" Sam asked when we all came trudging into the room. 

"If I ever have to hear the word 'feel' again, I'm going to strangle something," I muttered. 

"Maybe they should cut back the hours you spend with Wolverine…" Bobby-Jerk suggested, trailing off as I almost snarled at him. 

Snarled? Hmph. Guess that jerk was right. Maybe I have been spending too much time with Mr. Logan. Next thing I know I'll be putting my hair in points and gluing knives to the back of my hands. Oh yeah, and calling every guy 'bub' and every thing female 'darlin.' Tell me that's not a scary thought. 

I sat down at the kitchen table where Sam, Bobby-Jerk, Mr. Remy and Miss Ororo were seated. When they didn't say anything, or move or ANYTHING. I cracked an eye opened and looked at them. 

They were all staring at me! 

"What?" I asked, confused. 

Then they all looked away. No, that wasn't suspicious. They were nervous and though I'm no empath like Black Flame I suddenly felt like a frog in a Biology class. My drink was shifting nervously in my hands until, finally, someone decided to speak up. 

"Are you okay now?" Mr. Remy questioned. 

"Now?" Totally lost here! I was okay two minutes ago, now I don't know what I am besides confused. 

"We---all saw you this mornin' talkin' to Cyclops." Sam confessed and whereas they wouldn't meet me in the eye before asking they were all staring intently at me now! Back to feeling like a strapped down frog eleventh grade Biology. 

My face got hot. "Oh that." I cleared my throat and put on my best smile. "I'm fine." 

Miss Ororo wasn't buying it. "You seemed highly upset earlier." I can see the scalpel coming out. 

"I was just cranky." It's poking my skin. "No big deal." I'm squirming on the dissecting table. 

"You're lying kid," Bobby-Jerk stated. Oh great, now some weird kid is making the frog (me) dance. "You're still bothered." 

I snorted. "only YOU bother me." 

"I didn't say HOT and bothered, I just said bothered." Frog breaks free from demented kid who was making her dance, picks up the scalpel and engages in a pencil/scalpel fight with the idiot kid. 

Forget snarling or growling I was about to cut him with my words when Sam spoke up, "He's lookin' for ya." Frog dies from massive heart attack. "Probably still is." 

My heart tightened, my stomach hitched a ride to Wisconsin and my mind started to shake. I couldn't face him right now. There was no stinking way I could! "Oh." My English teachers would just shoot me because of my 'oh' answers. I was starting to sound like a bird. 

And considering I already have the wings ….I'm now a frog with wings. Great, I really AM losing it! 

"In other words, KID, I would get a head start." I glanced over at Bobby-Jerk who smiled back and nodded towards the door which lead to the outside. 

The doorknob was turning and before whoever it was (whether it was Scott or not) I was out of that kitchen faster than Mr. Kurt could teleport 


	74. You Don't Know Jack

Lucky Me 

Chapter 74

* * *

Amazingly enough, Cyclops didn't come and check my room Friday night OR Saturday morning (well he might have but I had wormed my way into Paige's room). Thankfully, Jack was going to take care of the rest of the problems. He had hunted me down and made sure I remembered it was at eleven we were going to leave. I was to fly to a certain spot, and he was going to pick me up. 

Just to make it less suspicious (and to get away from the mansion as soon as possible) I took off at 10:30. As fate had it, I heard my phone ring when I jumped but I didn't feel like answering it (could be Scott, but I don't think he's that determined to talk to me). I took off towards the spot and got there about five minutes later. What is even stranger is Mr. Fashionably Late pulled up ten minutes later. 

Jack gave me the once over, and quite obviously might I add. "You look---really nice." 

"Thanks." I felt myself blush lightly but besides that he didn't compliment which is a good thing since we are still suppose to be 'friends' and all. I noticed something (besides the awkward silence), "is this a new car? I've never seen you use this one." 

"Uh, it's a 'community car', " he stated. "It's the easiest to borrow without ----uh, people being too nosey." I shrugged, sounded plausible and with our 'secret friend-date' relationship the last thing we needed was a big flashy car to ride around in. 

We stopped at a restaurant in town and thankfully it wasn't that Harry's Hideaway. It was some other place, like Emily's Kitchen or something. Not really important. Jack took a lot of care to HIDE the car in a back parking lot that wasn't seeable from the road. 

Lunch was quick and somewhat talkative. I tipped my head to the side and studied my friend. He was NERVOUS. I've never seen Jack like this, at least not for a while and then he would look guilty. 

Finally, I was annoyed. "Okay, what gives?" 

"Huh?" Jack started to fidget. "What do you mean?" 

No witty and smart aleck comment? Something was defiantly wrong. "Your acting really weird, that's what I mean. What's wrong with you? Are you feeling sick or something?" I put my hand on his forehead and his face went blood red. 

"N-no. I'm not sick." I removed my hand and gave him a firm stare. "I'm fine. Just feeling a bit---different." 

"Different?" 

"Yeah, different." He looked away from my questioning GLARE. 

"Ohkay, fine, have your little secrets." I stuck my nose up in the air and gave my attention to the waitress as she came out of the kitchen and put our food down. 

After we left the diner, "I'm sorry, okay?" 

One eyebrow raise and a bored look, "did you say something?" 

Jack's jaw tightened, "I said I was sorry. I have a lot of things on my mind is all." 

I examined his hair, "Probably all that gel that you slopped on." 

His lips tugged into a smile. "That's on my head, not my mind." 

"Are you kidding? It probably seeped in through your pores and got sponged up by your brain by now." Smiling at him, he only laughed. 

I stopped, he continued walking. After two seconds he turned around, "What?" 

Shaking my head to clear it from that idea I just had, I gave him another simple smile. "Nothing!"

* * *

We went through the arcade and after I had beaten him at the racing game, I forced him to spend the rest of his quarters on the crane machine. He was pretty lucky on that game. It only took him three tries to get a fat angel boy sleeping on a cookie. I couldn't stop laughing at the image. 

I couldn't get a fat Mr. Warren out of my head. 

Jack was smiling proudly as we walked down the street towards the miscellaneous shops in downtown Salem Center. "It looks like Stitch will have a friend, huh?" 

His smile faltered, "I guess so." 

I got in front of him, turned and made him stop. Jack's eyebrows connected into one for a moment. "You, sir," I said trying to be commanding. "Aren't allowed to be depressed. Aren't you having a good time?" 

Again there was a twitch of his lips to a smile, "you're robbing me blind and I'm suppose to be happy about that?" 

Taking a deep breath like I was going to make a speech, I answered with a short and sweet, "Duh." 

He sputtered and then shook his head with a sigh, "that was a dramatic build up for no reason." 

"Are you happy?" I was serious this time. 

Jack gave me a different kind of smile, "yeah, I am." 

I turned and we continued to walk towards the shops side by side. 

A surprising thing happened when he grabbed my hand to hold me back from bumping into someone at the shopping center. Not that his politeness was surprising, but his calloused fingertips were. Jack's hands had never appeared rough before; it was odd that I noticed. It was probably because we didn't have to sneak around the mansion that I had enough time to notice the little things like that. 

We were just sneaking around a town in broad daylight praying against all odds that we wouldn't bump into anyone. 

Second surprise is when I looked at him and then at our hands. He pulled his hand from mine quickly and then he BLUSHED. 

The heat must have been getting to him! 

Bumming around the shops was okay and everything, but the best part was leaving them to escape to the movie theaters again. I couldn't help but laugh as I addressed him as Jacqueline instead of Jack. He raised one eyebrow and shook his head. 

We went to see some movie about alien pretending to be human to trick this scientist girl (who looked like a super model of course) into coming back to his home planet so they could breed and have a lot of alien/human thingies. 

Leaving the theaters around six, we decided that it would be best to go back to the mansion. If we spent too much time out and about someone was bound to notice (probably Jean) and send out their wolves (or Wolverine). I just don't understand these people sometime. 

* * *

I hadn't seen Jack around the mansion (without image inducer) very often. Of course, I wasn't around the mansion very much (too busy trying to avoid Scott). I had found the grounds more than an adequate hiding spot for avoiding 'Slim'. 

It was Wednesday when I was walking around that I ran into Chris throwing pebbles into the lake and looking like his normal cheerful self. Conversation started off with a bunch of half worded answers. When I got annoyed with it, I started to walk away and was stopped when a question popped out of his mouth that I hadn't expected. 

"Why him?" 

I stumbled, "what?" 

"Why _him_." He asked again. I looked over my shoulder to see his eyes set in front of him, glaring a hole in the shore. "Out of all the guys, why the hell did it have to be _him?_?" 

Now I was thrown into an uncomfortable position of unknowing. "Why do you want to know?" 

"Because I'm amazed that YOU would like someone like---like---_him_." Chris exasperated. I let a few moments pass, hoping against all odds that he would suddenly get struck with short term memory loss or something, "Well?" Guess I'm not that lucky. 

"I, uh, because I, uh" I wasn't good with emotions and stuff! I wasn't the stereotypical girl who could spout poetry about her, er, friend she was attracted to. 

"You don't know?" His voice was dangerously close to death. What did I do to tick him off? Was he upset that I liked Jack or that Jack liked me? OH yuck! No way! Chris would NEVER like Jack! That was just so WRONG. "Why am I NOT surprised?" 

Ohkay, I lied. I'm not good with nice, fluffy emotions. Being ticked off is something I DO know how to vocalize. "What's that mean? Just because I can't really answer doesn't mean I don't have my reasons!" 

He finally looked over at me. Sunglasses were firmly in place, but his face was so grave. Now Chris isn't usually the smiling and laughing kind (he doesn't exactly look like the approachable kind either truthfully). This time it looked like the wrong word would have him trying to fry half of New York. "Tell me them. I'm curious." 

Yeah, that tone proved that. Sheesh. "Because he's nice and sweet and funny and because he's been there for me no matter what." I was proud of my answer until Chris came back with his. 

Chris' face got even darker, "Even when _he's_ the one who screwed with your mind?" 

I blanched. 

"He's an insensitive jerk, Kerry," Chris continued. "I've spent more time with him than you have in the past few months. He doesn't care, he doesn't ever mention you." 

Because it's suppose to be a secret you numbskull! "I can understand that. We---are only friends now." 

Chris' eyebrow shot up, "is that so? Then why are you still dating him?" 

My face had gone from its normal healthy color to white to blood red with embarrassment. "B-because!" I stammered, "we want to be friends again. He said he still is---uh, finds me--" 

"He wants you." Chris spoke plainly. 

"Even if he doesn't talk about me…" It's not like his name is always on the tip of my tongue either. I would LOVE to talk about Jack more, but there would be too many unanswerable questions, too many protests. "I still---" 

"Want _him_." I nodded; Chris muttered something under his breath. "You two deserve each other. You're both idiots." I went to snap his head off and throw his remains in the lake, but he got up and walked away. I growled and was about to go after him when I heard another voice. 

I almost jumped out of my skin and into the lake because I hadn't expected anyone else to be out here. "Let him go, darlin'." 

My heart! My heart it was trying to escape from my ribcage. "You could WARN someone you know." Then I remembered WHO I was talking to as he stepped out from the forest, "er, Mr. Logan." Maybe the slight show of respect would keep him from scaring me (more then I already was). 

"Nothing will come out of chasin' him." He lit up a cigar and I felt strangely out of place. I spend a good amount of the morning with Mr. Logan when he's Mr. Wolverine, uh, Wolverine (yeah that would work on the field 'Mr. Wolverine!' 'Miss Storm!' 'Mr. Cyclops!') It didn't mean that we talked. He instructed, I attempted and I usually got slammed down on the mat because I did it wrong. Mr. Logan wasn't like Scott in that respect. Wolverine would only give constructive criticism not plain Jane criticism. 

Why couldn't I have chosen him to look up to instead of Scott? 

"What's his problem anyways?" 

I glanced at Mr. Logan through the side of my eye. He sniffed the air. "Probably because you still raise his temperature." 

I had to catch myself before I fell over from the sheer stupidity of that. What did temperature have to do with smells? "What's that suppose to mean?" 

"You better watch yourself, kid." I was really beginning to dislike that little nickname. 

"Why? You think Chris would actually hurt me?" I wouldn't ever believe that. Sure, I ticked the boy off, but knowing him all this time I could say with certainty that Chris would never lay a finger on me. 

Mr. Logan smirked, flicking his cigar ashes off the end. "No but I think ya might hurt him." 

I cocked an eyebrow and my head. What was he getting at? Then, as if Storm struck me with a lightening bolt, of course! I had only heard rumors about Mr. Logan's love for my m---uh, Jean. I guess he knows what its like being stuck in the one-way street with a car that won't start. 

"Don't ya dare give me that look, and stop rollin' yer eyes." Yikes. Accent was coming out thicker. He doesn't have much of one, but when you tick him off it's better to hear the accent then a growl. ANYTHING is better than an upset Mr. Logan growling. "I've already had a little talk with yer boyfriend." 

Uh….which one? 

"You had his scent on ya after you ripped into Cyke that mornin'." Then he gave me THE eyes. "It ain't normally my business what goes on between people in the mansion, but I'm sendin' you two BOTH a warning that it better not get TOO far." He took a long breath of smoke. "You're jail bait to everyone." 

My face had returned to normal color but only until he said that. After putting what he thought so bluntly I went blood red (again) with embarrassment. "We haven't! We aren't!" I protested without much heat of conviction but of blushing cheeks. 

He laughed, "I know darlin', but I'm just warnin' you against gettin' to a point where you have to chose. You two are alone a lot more than Jeannie thinks, if she knew you spent several nights in the same bed as him…" Mr. Logan smirked. " Things are bound to happen and accidents happen too. Probably something you don't want to hear from an old man like myself." Or anyone else for that matter. "I guess I could have gotten Gambit out here to talk to ya." 

It took me a click but after that I busted out laughing. I couldn't imagine that poster boy of seduction telling ANYONE to 'just say no' on the topic of the 'birds and the bees'. 

* * *

"Oh don't be such a baby, he'll regain use of that hand." I paused, "eventually." 

Mr. Warren laughed as Dr. Hank could only sigh in mock defeat. I was trying to defend the reason I sent Chris down to the medical lab after a one on one practice in the gym. He said it was a slip of the hand, but I had to teach a pervert a lesson. 

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Chris protested, his face a lovely shade of tomato. 

I glared at him like I was possessed by the devil himself. SURE the guy who had a mini-crush on me ACCIDENTLY grabbed my--well, part of my chest a split second before I was nearly breaking his hand. Mr. Warren had to separate us; he says I never seemed that enthusiastic about tearing into someone before. 

"Did you really have to twist his hand so roughly though, Kookie?" Dr. Hank questioned as he wrapped Sparky's hand up. 

My nose went into the air again, "he should be thankful he still has it attached." 

"I suppose." Chris went into a stuttering protest after Dr. Hank said that. Mr. Warren couldn't help but laugh even more at the boy's lack of verbal retorts. It was a first for Chris to be struck speechless. 

After a second, he cradled his hand and coldly decided to take one last cheap shot. " Not like there was much THERE anyway." 

My glare had all three guys on edge. Mr. Warren looked like he was ready to grab me if I should make any movements towards my teammate. Dr. Hank hovered closer to Chris, I guess to get him to safety. 

When I just smiled and gave a fake laugh, they calmed down. 

It took another seven minutes before Dr. Hank had to go show Mr. Warren something in the other room directly across from where we were. 

My smile turned, as I got close enough to the bookshelves. 

BAP! "OW!" 

TWING! "HANK!" 

CLUNK! "HELP!" 

Dr Hank and Mr. Warren almost ran into me as I was walking out of the room. 

"What was that noise, Kerry?" Mr. Warren asked suspiciously. 

"That," I ground out, "was the sound of a very large, heavy medical book beating manners into a very thick headed idiot." 

Dr. Hank sighed, "I've been meaning to ask you about your progress in the anger management course…"

* * *

On Friday I opened my door (after getting on my stomach to look under the door at the shoes to make sure it wasn't Scott who still had yet to capture me). Before I could so much as blink, HE grabbed me around the waist and pulled me painfully close to him. 

Thankfully he had enough brains to come in and shut my door. 

"Uh, this is unexpected." His face was buried in the curve of my neck. I was going to have to amputate my feet because the blood kept rushing to my head making me blush. I briefly wondered if I was going to develop some weird mutant power from this as well. Maybe red skin? Yikes! 

It took me a half a second more before I got the idea and put my arms around his shoulders. His grip tightened. He didn't SAY anything (very unlike him) "is something wrong?" 

I don't ever remember seeing him like this. His arms weren't going to be moving anytime soon and neither was his head. My heart broke. Usually I was the one clinging to him, begging for understanding and protection---WHOA! Thinking WAY too much! 

"What happened?" attempting to keep my voice low was no problem. His only response was to move his face slightly against my neck (no, not in any 'suggestive ways'). It was then that I decided to shut up and do my best to do what he had done so many times, just be there for me. I let my arms to get a more comfortable position of holding his waist and then let my grip get as tight as his. 

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but finally, after however long, his hold relaxed and he looked me in the eyes. "Care to explain?" I croaked, not the most attractive way of speaking but I'm human enough to feel others pains (as long as I wasn't the one to give them). 

He smiled at me weakly, "not really." 

Trying desperately (and transparently) to lift the mode, "so you think you can just come in here and freak me out and I'm not suppose to wonder why?" 

"Yes." There was no humor in his voice. I felt nervous, he was just staring at me like there was something that was going to pop out of them and bit his nose. He took in a ragged breath and turned his face away. When he turned towards me again, his hand made its way to my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek slowly. 

I was stunned, but my mouth pulled into a ghost of a smile. 

"If you ever think about leaving I will hunt, sedate and then tie you to a pole out back to make sure you can't leave ever again." 

That'll break the mode, that and the fact I started to laugh at his dumb 'affectionate' joke. 

His hand didn't move and in the blink of an eye and a breath caught in my throat, he moved dangerously close to me. There couldn't have been more than a half an inch between our lips and he stopped. 

He stopped?! 

Just as quickly (and surprisingly) as he had grabbed me when I opened the door, he stepped back and released my waist and face. "Sorry." 

Huh, sorry? Sorry for what? My brain was shaking and my thinking was fuzzy. And then came the sheer lostness (hey! I invented a word!) of my person. He was just about to kiss me and then pulled back. Not because of Mr. Kurt or me sneezing or anything. He pulled back because he WANTED to? I'M SO FREAKING LOST! 

"What's that look for?" He asked, suddenly all smiles again. "I did stop before I did anything, didn't I?" 

THAT'S the problem! I shook my head and clearly gave signs I was not happy. 

"I told you we'd be friends first, didn't I? Friends usually don't kiss." His serious voice was out again. "I don't want to screw up again." 

Oh, well, that made sense. I guess. I let it go and then (with hands on my hips), "so am I going to find out what it was that got you upset?" 

"Not a chance." 

ARGH! "You are SUCH a male." 

He only smiled. 

"Friends usually confide in each other." I pretended to wipe away a tear (anything to lighten the mood). 

"So you want me to give you an answer about why I came here?" 

"Yeah," that had to be the dumbest question ever. 

"Well now that," he smirked, "is a secret." 

* * *

"Did you see that!" Julie griped, "He cut me off!" 

"Try waving with more than one finger next time." 

Who ever decided to let HER drive to town needs to be in the car WITH her. I knew the girl was a freaking maniac, but put her behind a two ton vehicle and you might as well kiss your behind good-bye. Mr. Bishop decided to chaperone this little trip as did Sam. I think they were really just running in fear of one of the X-women again. Hey, it happened more often than one expects! 

"I thought it was an American custom, I see it on the movies all the time." 

"You see them take showers all the time, you don't follow that lead." I pointed out. She would have had a pretty good glare going if she didn't have her sunglasses on. 

When we got to town each of us had different destinations. Julie wanted to check out the dingy 'alternative clothing' store, Sam needed to pick up groceries, I had to get some movies and Mr. Bishop had to do whatever it is that living mountains have to do. I set off and for some reason cruel and unusual fate was right up my alley. Apparently on the 500 plus channels my team wasn't the only ones finding nothing on the show. 

Yup, that's right. After a week or whatever of careful avoidance, I had to walk straight into Scott and Jean. A not happy Scott and Jean. There were in the more 'discreet' part of the movie rental store. It was only when I knew for certain that they hadn't seen me (probably because I was creeping along on bent knees like I was looking at the movies on the very bottoms shelves) that I was going to make a break for the door. 

Then, then I heard my name. "…Kerry wouldn't…" okay, I'm human. I hear my name, I'm instinctively driven to jump up and scream 'and what wouldn't Kerry do?' But being a mutant X-person, I crept around close to the back of the store, with one a shelving unit between my parents and me. 

"…reason! She isn't prone to emotional outbursts or showing her emotions period." Jean was not a happy Suzy Homemaker. 

"I thought you told me you weren't getting in the middle of this." Scott almost snapped at the telepath. YIKES! Talk about dancing with a telepathic Grim Reaper! 

"I did but it doesn't mean I'm not going to push for a resolve between the two of you. She's just as stubborn as you in some areas. Oh don't give me that look. You are stubborn. Once you get one thought in your head it's hard to get it out. What did you do?" 

"I only asked why she was staying up so late." His voice was controlled. "She then took the liberty to make a spectacle out of herself in front of half the mansion." 

There was no response for a few seconds. 

"You said something, didn't you?" 

"I just TOLD you what I said." 

"Scott Summers," her voice was like a knife to the throat, "what _else_ did you say?" 

He wasn't a stupid man, "just questioned her if the reasons she wasn't doing as well as she was in the Dan--'the room' and work out sessions is because she stayed up all night playing games." Yeah right. He makes it sound like they were innocent and harmless questions instead of fierce allegations. 

"So they were harmless, innocent questions and not strong allegations?" 

My thoughts…oh crap! Jean knew I was here! 

"I might have---pushed her a little harsher than normal but I know she can handle it." I swallowed. I didn't want to think. Jean already gave me fair warning that she could hear everything I was thinking (well at least a sentence of it or something). 

Dang tears! They couldn't just stay in my eyes! 

"Work it out before she turns against you, Scott. Like Alex." Oh, that HAD to be the killing blow. I never knew Jean could sink that low. 

Well, I had my hints I suppose but I never saw it in action. 

Waiting until they where gone (after almost freaking this poor old woman out because I had ducked behind her as they passed) I was too frazzled to think of anything else much less movies so I just grabbed one and went to the counter with it. 

The guy behind the counter smirked at me, "Into the kinky stuff, huh?" 

I gave him the patent 'you are not funny' expression I usually save for Bobby-Jerk when he makes his bad jokes. "I'm not into you if that's what you're hoping for." 

He held up the video I was currently paying for and I went white as my eyes wished to bulge out. "Babysitting Daddy" was the name of the movie with a girl in a skirt that would qualify as a rubber band sitting on this ugly old man's lap while another girl was nearly falling out of her non-existent top (by girl I mean women). 

Oh gross! I must have been hiding in the adult section! And the movie title! That was just TOO Freudian to think about! 

GROSS!

* * *

The almighty and utterly pointless Author's Note: Hey y'all! Go to Kookie's Pan, there are discussion boards and new fanart! ;) Oh!! And today, November 14th is when the Looney Tunes: Back in Action! Comes out! My friends are so understanding as to withstand having to go with me (they'll have to peel me off the screen!).


	75. Second Time Lost

Lucky Me 

Chapter 75

* * *

Author's Note: This is not a part of the fic that has anything to do with Halloween. ;) Trust me! This is what you get when you mix and blend the songs, "The Visit," "You're Gone," and "I Believe." Weird combo to get here isn't it? *smirk*

* * *

There are some days that seem so boring you wish you just stayed in bed. Then there are days that drag out so long it feels like years (this often occurs when I get caught by several speeches about things I just can't focus on because breathing seems more interesting). The last of the abnormal days are the ones that have you suckered punch, laying on the floor and gasping for breath. 

This is one of those days. 

Innocent enough it started out, but then around three in the afternoon my world was bashed, smashed and other wise destroyed by the simple ringing of the doorbell and me answering it. 

I'd been bumming around the dining room (avoiding Scott like always because, come ON, who goes to the dining room to relax?) when the door bell chimed. Personally, I didn't like answering the door because this place is wacky enough to have Spiderman show up at the door and from what I heard about him from Mr. Logan, the man was annoying. Well, not so much annoying as just didn't know when to web his own mouth shut. 

After the third time, I exasperatingly went to the front door (where I swear I saw a pink rabbit hopping around the entrance), opened it, and went into a state of complete shock. 

My heart clenched, my jaw took a trip to China, my heart went pale with fright and disbelief as my brain threw its hands up in disgust and said it was going to retire to Florida. 

"Hello, Kerry," and a smile that was so familiar… 

At the sound of those two little words, I did the most imaginable things possible when faced with what I was experiencing. 

I passed out. 

* * *

"Kookie!" I heard a voice in the distance. My brain stubbornly refused to acknowledge it as anything or anyone important. Then they decided to shake me, my brain couldn't ignore that. "Kookie! Wake up or I'll use you as a biology project!" 

I cracked my eyes open to see Bugs Bunny staring back at me. Shaking my head , I closed my eyes and then reopened them. No 'rascally rabbit' just Adam looking at me with pure concern. He helped me sit up on the couch, and all I could do to say thanks was groan and hold my head. 

"What happened?" 

"You're the one who fainted, you tell us," Chris quipped out. 

No matter how weirded out or how many times I pass out, there will always be a glare waiting for him. "I had a---well, I guess a dream." 

That got a strangled laugh. "Right. So you didn't faint. You took a nap in front of the opened doorway. That's smart." It was better than believing what I saw. 

"There was a nice breeze, " I muttered with a shrug. 

"Next time can you please just crash on the couch like the rest of the lazy people," at this point he was looking over at Chris, "or else you'll have Chris near to fainting again." 

Chris face went beat red. "Don't make it sound like that!" He was visibly trying to get control of himself. "Anyway, you have a visitor." 

"Kookie, you look sick. Why are you so pale?" Adam was gently shaking my shoulders again, trying to get me out of the stupor I had quickly fallen into. 

I felt faint, but not half as much when I heard a voice. The same voice I heard before I passed out. It was that voice and Professor's which brought me to the brink of bolting to the nearest window or making out with the floor again. 

Professor came floating in (sort of like Yoda but with a yellow Volkswagen Beetle convertible with no wheels) along with an emotionless looking Cyclops (out of uniform, so Scott, but he was wearing the Cyclops face) and… 

Dad. 

I didn't keep pictures of him around in plain site so it couldn't be some sick joke with an image inducer. There's no way they could ever fake… 

"Hey, Kitten." 

…his voice 

Out of astonishment and complete disbelief I was too utterly freaked out. And when one is freaked out, one should not open her mouth because, as the cause of the current loss on reality started to come closer, I opened my mouth and screamed. 

"Stay AWAY!" I shouted, backing up, tripping over the coffee table and I just kept scooting back till my wings hit the couch. 

"Kerry, calm down." It was a male voice, but don't ask me whose it was. I was focusing on keeping my short screaming bursts under control. 

"H-he's DEAD!" I pointed towards the man who looked, sounded and seemed to be my Dad. I was still shouting and screaming. 

Then I saw the shock and---hurt? On my Dad's face. Then I saw a shoulder and someone gripping my elbows to help stand me up. 

"Kerry?" Dad or that guy who was creepingly LIKE my Dad, questioned. 

I couldn't bare it anymore. I turned, trying to run into any mouse hole with its front door open. But a steel rod of an arm was blocking my running track. Scott. I clung to his arm, he didn't make any move to get me off of him so I just tightened my grip. My back was to the Dad-creature as Scott was facing him. 

Clutching onto his upper arm, shaking, crying and sort of suck breathing there was no way I was going to be talking any time soon. 

"Perhaps you should give her a few moments." I started to nod with what Scott suggested and cried even harder. At least I had finally stopped screaming my head off. 

"Okay," he (dad?) said reluctantly. 

After a few minutes of odd silence I turned to Scott and jumped away from him. "Sorry," I muttered. 

"Chris, stay with her," Scott instructed. "I'm going to talk to----" 

"Zach." Scott nodded and left, dragging a dazed looking Adam behind him. 

"Who was that?" Chris asked at length. He wasn't the only one swimming in the ocean of severely lost. 

"I---my Dad, I think," I whispered in reply. 

"Your Dad? I don't think I ever remember seeing him." 

I sat down on the couch because I felt like my legs were going to give out at any time. "That's because he's dead." 

"Oh." He was now in the dark and lost part of the ocean. "Then---he's the best looking dead guy I've ever seen." 

I snapped to attention. "I SAW him DIE! He's been dead for TWO years!" 

Chris held up his hands quickly. "Whoa! No need to shout at me!" 

"B-but he's DEAD! How can he be here and dead at the same time?!" I was confused, lost, hurt, relieved, mad and just too many other things to focus on them all. I put my head in my hands, attempting to get my breathing under control. 

A few minutes later, I felt hands cover my own and when I looked up it was HIM. It took two seconds for me to go from the couch into his arms. 

Looking over his shoulder as I held him in a death grip (considering my current problem, maybe I should have used a different way of saying that), I saw Chris with an almost heartbroken expression in his eyes. I buried my face in Jack's shoulder as Chris turned to leave. 

My Dad was back. 

My Dad who died in my arms, whose funeral I never cried at because I had to be the strong one, was BACK. 

What was I going to do?

* * *

After I felt safe enough that I wasn't going to have a heart attack or pass out, the Professor loaned us his office. It was a large office, with nice large windows for a Blight to jump out of should her spine turn to jelly. 

Zach D'mon, my biological father, sat idly on the couch eyeing me. My stomach was officially in the ICU part of my anatomy. 

I was still shaking. Jean said I didn't have to do this but my doubts about an imposter where put to rest. There was a telepathic examination as well as a DNA test given and all the results pointed to the same thing, this man was Zechariah Foxx D'mon. 

"I know this must be difficult for you." 

Oh no Dad! You just let your WHOLE family think you were dead. Let me think that I watched you die. NO this wasn't difficult at all! This was easy! I was an X-Men trainee, this was SO easy I should laugh---if I wasn't so sure I'd end up crying. 

"I don't know what to say." I looked at him (I was standing up, leaning on the Professor's desk). My soaring heart also broke, like a metal cloud in my blue skies. "I'm sure you have at least a few questions." 

My anger lashed out before my iced over brain could raise a hand in protest. "Yeah, like where the HELL have you been all this time?!" 

He narrowed his eyes (my eyes, the same color). "Watch you mouth, young lady." 

"Oh, ex-cuse me if my language doesn't meet to your approval!" I was livid and hurt, amazing how those two emotions can work together. "Maybe if you would have BEEN around to improve it!" 

Dad gave a faint smile. "Still the little spitfire." 

Sighing, I knew yelling at him wouldn't get me any answers. It would alleviate some of the anger, yes, but not the questions. 

"Where have you been?" I asked in a careful controlled tone. Just like Scott told me to. 

There was a troubled sigh as my first answer. "I don't really remember." 

Liar. Wait! I should give him half an ear. "What do you mean? What do you remember?" 

Dad got up, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His dark colored hair falling in front of his face as he walked to the balcony doors. "It's hard to explain. I ---remember what happened. I remember why, but the past few years have been a blur." 

The why, perfect. He remembers I was dumb and selfish and he died trying to protect me. "But where have you been?" 

Turning to me, Dad gave the best apologetic smile he could muster. "I have no idea. I feel like I've been everywhere and nowhere." That certainly cleared everything up, how about lunch? "I think it was like Wisconsin. A place that exists but you just want to block out." 

"I see." Typical cold answer. I know many people probably think I should have thrown my arms around him and cried with joy, but stand in my shoes. My mom ditched me, Dad wasn't there. My mutation came out, Dad wasn't there. Broken heart, busted lips, blasts and shots and Dad wasn't there for me. I only had the X-Men to help me and Scott to save me from the gunman during the night I got shot. 

Scott… 

"I know you want to hate me," Dad continued. "I can understand. I've heard about what happened between you and your mother, I don't know why she'd act so irrationally." Two big black wings on my back, there's your reason. 

He must have noticed I deflated and I also couldn't take his STARING at me anymore. "They're real," I said in a low, dark tone. "Stop staring. They won't fall off by wishing, trust me." 

Dad's eyes snapped wide, "I wasn't---I didn't---I--" he sighed, and cautiously started to come closer to me. "It's just that I didn't imagine they'd---you'd---" 

"Be a genetic freak of nature?" I asked with no humor. "The same type of freak you and your 'boys' were 'picking off' back home?" 

He flinched, stopping in his path. "That's not what I meant, Kitten. Look at me." I refused, but I pretended to. I looked over his shoulder at eye level. "You know me. Would I ever intentionally hurt anyone?" 

"I knew you," I stated, rather coldly. I was putting Bobby-Jerk to shame with the amount of ice I was slinging around. "You did hurt us." 

Dad was apparently tired of this. "I got shot. You got away." He spoke firmly, "I can't take back the past, but I'm here for you now, aren't I?" 

My eyes wanted to roll, they begged to do it. "But for how long?" 

"I--I don't know." Honest answers aren't always what I want to hear. 

"Figures," I scoffed, before turning and leaving the room completely. Dad, Zach, tried to get me to come back but I ignored him. 

Why not? He'd ignored me for two whole years. 

* * *

Two days, two stinking days I have been dodging Dad. My brain was snapping and mending with thoughts and emotions so fast I felt like a construction crew was going to go on strike in my brain. 

If it was between Scott and Dad facing off with me, I'd chose Scott. Surprisingly, he seemed to be even more elusive than me. Jean had given smiles and excuses when I finally asked about him and said that Cerebro had picked up a new mutant signature in the area and he was investigating it. 

I think he was celebrating. He was rid of me if Dad was back. 

Shaking my head, I tried to think of something else besides that man. There was no one I felt comfortable enough to talk to, not even Jack. I doubt he's ever been through something as life stuttering as this. 

Then again, didn't that bad guy Magento have a way of dying and popping back up? And let me not get on the case of Jean as I read about it in Scott's files. Clones, Aliens, universe-eating big birds of fire, and one dead, back to life Dad was suppose to mean something? 

This wasn't helping. This was slowly disintegrating my sanity. 

"Kerry?" The voice made my heart jump around, screaming in horror until I looked over at the one who had called me. Then my common sense took out a huge mallet and beat my heart back into a thumping submission. 

I paused before I said his name. "Scott." 

Old 'one eye' as Mr. Logan liked to call him, sat down next to me. There wasn't an easy way for either or us to start this conversation. I didn't even know the topic (okay, so I'm going to burn for a million years because I lied). 

"Is he really your father?" Scott asked after an eternity. "Are you sure he is?" 

"His blood and brain seems to think so," I replied, watching my tone. I didn't want to end up angry or crying at this point. Of course, as of now, I was just numb from the chest up. Hard feelings and hollow thoughts. 

Was that a dancing fish on the lake? 

A fat blue one with a top hat and cane? 

"That doesn't mean anything." Scott injected my thoughts with his words. 

"What do you mean?" I felt something in my heart, and I squashed it a millisecond later. 

He gave me a smile I hadn't seen in quite a while, the almost carefree boyish grin. "I've seen a lot of people mysteriously wonder into the mansion after being 'dead.'" He frowned slightly. "There are ways to fake almost anything. You can fake blood, memories, and even personality traits. But--" there was always a but, "you just know if it's them." 

"How?" 

Scott gave a ghost of a shrug. "You know them and that's how you know it's them." 

I gave a full, wide awake shrug and without thinking that perhaps I should only think these words since half a month ago or more I was ripping this man's head off, I spoke. "But what if you want to believe its them so badly that you---I dunno, fake yourself into believing it IS them." 

"You marry them." 

Brain stopped. 

Can't think. 

CAN speak. "What?!" 

That same relaxed smile. "Sorry, horrible joke." 

Great, now my heart has stopped. SCOTT just made a joke? 

"Talk to him, Kookie," were his final words of advice, well, semi-final. "You have a rare second chance, don't throw it away because you're angry. Hate him once he's gone, not while he's here." For some reason, I had the strongest feeling that Scott wasn't talking about me anymore, but for himself. 

And I couldn't help but feel sympathy for him and, eventually, myself.

* * *

Another two days and I was staring out over the Xavier estate from the cool perch on top of the roof. It was like a gazebo thingie bolted to the roof so one could look all around and feel intimidated by Mr. Filthy-Stinking-Rich-Bald-Yoda---AH! Xavier! I haven't seen any light sabers around here (yet). 

Although with my strange Dad situations, I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up losing an arm. 

Dancing pigs. 

Huh? 

I shook my head and glanced at my Dad. 

Dad stared back at me, smiling slightly. "You've grown so much." 

I blushed, my Dad was always nice. So nice. So different from Scott in so many ways that the number took half a life time to say. Then a nasty little guilt bug bit my conscience. I couldn't look at Dad any longer as I turned away. I---could never replace Dad, I know that. But---it's been two years. More than that really. 

"Is there something wrong?" He gave a pathetic laugh. "Besides the obvious that is." I shrugged. "Nothing important." 

"I haven't heard about your life for two years and so many months and that's all you have to say to me?" 

Yeah, I already had confided everything important in…ketchup bottles drowning in a sea of mustard…not even evil mustard….wait, what? 

"Can I ask you something then?" I swear if he was going to ask for a quick test flight I was going to fall through the roof in shock. But, thankfully, he didn't. Although I can't honestly say that his real question was better than my theorized one. "Why do they call you Kookie Summers?" 

My stomach went through the roof, mansion, sub-basements, and was now enjoying Chinese food. I didn't want to answer that! The thing I had felt pretty lousy about now was acting like the ultimate betrayal. 

When caught in between a rock and a hard place, play completely and totally dumb. "What do you mean?" 

One look that clearly screamed he wasn't buying it. "They call you Kookie, which could be a pet name like Kitten, but then I heard them also call you Summers. Just like the Scott guy." Oh darn, now the hard place and the rock were squashing me like the cream center of an Oreo. 

"It's---my name. My new one." Before he could say anything, I went into rambling mode. "When Heather got rid of me I decided to get rid of my old name, too. Sorta to make a new start kinda thing. Scott and Jean are the ones who adopted me to make sure I didn't end up in some backwater orphanage or anything and Kookie was already a nick-name since I tackled the Nazi to the ground…and, and I took his last name since it was their last name and and---" 

Then I shut up. I had answered his question (with confusion, rambling and utter chaos). 

"That's good." 

Oh great, the rest of me just went to China as well. "What?" 

"I'm glad you moved on after my---apparent death." I had no comment or smart aleck thought to that. "I'm not going to lie and say it doesn't---sting but I know why you did it." 

Petty revenge on Heather? (Guess the sarcasm got over the shock). "It would feel worse though knowing you didn't have anyone to look up to in that special fatherly way." Dad's voice was soft, almost as if I wasn't suppose to hear him. 

"It's not like you think it is. Scott is always bashing me and things I do." I muttered. "He's happy you're here because you relieve him of this 'fatherly' duty." 

"I don't believe that," Dad defended. "He refused to let me near you, gave me the third degree, asked personal questions about you just to make sure I was who I said I was." He gave me a smile. "He really does love you, Kerry---or is it Kookie?" 

"Guess that depends on whether you stick around or not." Ooops, that wasn't suppose to come out like that! "That is--uh--" 

Dad laughed. "I'll stay around for a while longer. I'm glad to know you're in good hands and protective hearts. Names don't really matter to me. They never did. Guess I got that from your Grandmother." I felt nervous at the mention of Grandma Arty's name. "Are you happy here, with them? With your new role model?" 

I opened my mouth to answer when an explosion from behind me caught our attention. "That was the boathouse!" I exclaimed. Before I really thought about it, I jumped over the ledge of the gazebo and took off towards the smoke and flames. Two seconds later, I stopped in mid flight to look back at my Dad. 

He just smiled. 

I had a duty to perform, so my wings turned me again towards the lake. Fear gripped my heart as I neared the destroyed place. It was close to ten, and Scott and Jean usually went to bed pretty early on the weekdays when there was nothing going on (like mutant terrorists or a Three Stooges Marathon). 

"SCOTT!" I stripped to my black skin without thought and dived into the flames. "JEAN!" After a few seconds of frantic looking, I saw red hair. Diving I landed haphazardly next to the hair and began to pull debris off of her. She groaned, had black smudges on her cheeks and clothes, and I think she singed her hair but she was ALIVE. 

I grabbed her and hefted the motionless woman to a clearing outside the cinders that use to be her home. "Jean! Jean! Where's Scott? Was he here? Jean!" No response. 

Something in the back of my mind had….Xavier hopping around in a purple frog costume singing 'Ooops, I did it again'….had thought that she was probably knocked out pretty sounded from having a house dropped on her head. I wondered briefly if Scott had been on the first floor and if I should look for ruby slippers and curled up feet (Wizard of Ozish type deal). 

Scott! I had to find him! 

"Cyclops isn't here." Came a gravely voice that could smash your courage and make you wet your pants. I whirled around to come face to face with a guy who was wrapped up like a mummy and had a cape. He had to be a bad guy. Only bad guys looked stupid in capes. "He's with me." 

I glared at him, my wings spreading slowly. 

"Don't try anything stupid or I'll kill him." I growled at him. "Why don't you come to the graveyard and have a little chat with me and my new buddy?" 

"Why don't I just rip your spinal cord out with my teeth?" I asked darkly. Sometimes an imagination helps with colorful, eyebrow raising threats. 

He laughed. His laugh was about the only thing more disturbing that his voice. "I'll see you there. Come ALONE." 

And then he sort of sunk into the ground. 

After checking Jean once more to make sure she wasn't in any harm, I sighed heavily and took to the air. I knew the graveyard he was talking about (whoever HE was, and no, I don't mean the Jack HE I mean the bad guy HE). It was the one that all the people of the X got buried in. 

Too many headstones, Mr. Logan said once and then promptly had left. 

I landed close to the center (as I could tell). Why is it bad guys had the knack of picking the CREEPIEST places on earth do to evil? Not to mention the most obvious? If there was a bad guy in the middle of a day care then I would be surprised and give him an award for creativity…then again, those little devil spawns known as children might make it understandable when they've had too much sugar. 

"Now you are wondering why I made you come here, non?" I tried to figure out where he was, but his voice seemed to come from everywhere. "I have a gift for you." I heard the bushes rustle behind me, since I didn't have any face to attach to the voice and stare at, I looked behind me. 

"No…" I breathed out. 

Hollowed, glowing orange eyes, "What's the matter, Kitten?" 

I-it was Dad with that mummy, cape-wearing freak's voice! "Dad!?" 

"More like a puppet." The voice was coming from two places now. "You see, it was the easiest thing to do. If I had used someone from an X-Men's past, they'd have been suspicious, but not of one of their new recruits." 

Glowing eyes, and hand wrapped around the handle of a gun. "S-stop this!" I screamed, stumbling backwards. I gripped my head, my eyes burning, my brain swelling with confusion. "H-how is this even POSSIBLE?" 

"I'm a mutant." The voices, though the same voice, mocked. "My name is GraveWorm. I have the most interesting power to be able to revive the dead, no matter what their state of decay was when I found them." 

Dad was really dead. I looked up, only to be stared back at with the one eye barrel of the gun. This couldn't be happening! Then I heard the first click of the safety being taken off of the weapon. I couldn't move, it felt like my legs weighed a million pounds. 

"But WHY?" I screamed again, hopefully distracting him, my Dad, from shooting and killing me. God, this was messing with my head, I almost wished they DID pull the trigger, at least it would make thing simpler. 

"To get information, of course." Oh yeah duh (please don't do this to me Dad!). "If you're dead, I can manipulate you into getting me everything I want to know about." 

Then, just as the trigger was gently getting pulled, a bright red beam came from the blackness of the woods. The gun went fliyng, I went screaming, and my dad fell to the ground. 

GraveWorm cursed, but this time, it was only with one voice source. Trembling, I fell to the ground, my breath hitched in my throat. 

"Blight! Are you all right?" Scott asked, shaking my shoulders lightly. Did he have rabbit ears? "Answer me!" 

"I-I'm fine! I-I thought he captured you!" 

"No, I came back to the boathouse a few moments ago and AHHH!" 

There was a scream registered before the firing of the gun caught my attention, "DAD!" I screamed, not really sure who I was addressing with this name anymore. 

Zach stood up behind us, Scott has slumped forward into my arms. "What's wrong, Kitten?" He asked, but it wasn't him. My Dad Zombie came closer, I held my breath and let out a pained scream as the gun went off again. 

My shoulder was most likely broken from the bullet tearing through it. "W-what are you doing?" I wheezed out. "Daddy, please, stop." 

I was so sure I was dead, then GraveWorm would have gotten just what he wanted, me dead. 

"Oh heavens, Kerry!" I felt hands on me, and then saw them on Scott, gently turning him over. The man was still breathing and Dad seemed to be off of the control trip. He looked like he was the one who was shot. "What did I do?" 

Then there was a blinding white light, hot and sticky that hit me and Dad square in the chest. I went flying backwards and slammed into at least three stone gravestones on my way. I landed with an 'umph' and couldn't focus enough to make out more than three GraveWorms. Great, brain damage probably. 

"Such a waste of time," the guy sneered, picking up the gun where my Dad must have dropped it. The throbbing in my shoulder and the oncoming migraine were whacking me around pretty viciously. "This is taking too much time, if anyone is wise enough to come here then I'll have to start my plans all over again. I'm not a patient man." 

I found Scott and Dad. They were laying about ten feet away from each other, and about thirty feet away from me. Then the gun loaded, "Which one do you want to have dead? It doesn't matter to me. If you chose your father though, precious, he'll be dead again. I can't revive an overkilled person. And yet," he pointed the barrel at the stirring Cyclops, "If I kill him, I'll have full access to ALL the X-Men, but then I'll have to kill you as well." There was his sickening, cruel laugh again. "I'll kill you regardless. Wouldn't want you telling on me after all." 

I paled. "You couldn't!" 

"Which one, precious? The mutant or the human?" GraveWorm gestured between the two men in front of me, both down on the ground groaning at the hits they'd received. "One shot, and you have one minute." 

B-before Scott and Jean I didn't have anyone because my mom hated my guts. 

"Kerry?" Dad asked , slowly. 

Tears started to fall freely, I never remember another time when my heart had been ripped out so cruelly. Dad, Zach D'Mon, lay on one side and Scott on the other, and then there was the self-proclaimed GraveWorm. All I wanted was lying there staring back at me. 

Then the bad guy started to glow. "I'd chose quickly." 

"Kerry, Kitten…" he sounded so desperate. Dad was gone, he was nothing more than a puppet. But he was still my DAD! 

My eyes flickered to Scott, "D-do what you have to----Kerry." 

My world slowed down incredibly. 

Then the shot ripped through the air…

* * *

"Kerry! Kerry!" My world was being shaken once again. I felt cold and hot all at the same time. I was staring in Jack's natural face. It was marred with worry and I felt my head throb with the suddenness of being woken up. 

"W-what happened?" 

"You were screaming, everyone else is out." HIS voice was thick with concern, "I guess you were having that nightmare again." 

I looked around frantically. "Where's dad? What happened to GraveWorm?" I was desperate to find them both. 

"Scott? He's with the Professor down stairs." I shook my head and told him my REAL dad. "Kerry, your dad isn't here." 

"B-but he IS! I s-saw him----" It was a nightmare. It was a dream. It never happened. Just like that the truth slammed into me like a glacier, hard and cold truth. I felt tears start to come again. "It seemed so real." It was just a dream, just a dream. 

I didn't have to move or ask, Jack was there, wrapping his arms around my waist. Somehow one of his hands found the way to the back of my head to stroke my hair. "It's okay." 

He kept trying to calm me down, but I couldn't stop crying. I had lost Dad all over again. I hated this nightmare. It was almost always something to do with my family, but I never remembered it being so vivid or having Dad in it. 

It must be all the stuff happening with Scott. All the things I never heard from my Dad. All my worries, all my secrets, all my guilt over 'replacing' Dad. The dreams were getting worse. This was the first of many I could remember so clearly---could still see my Dad's green eyes, the same color as mine, in the sunlight. His smile and laugh, my God, I just lost him again. I was going to go crazy if I didn't do something. 

Jack didn't say anything as I pushed away from him, swung my shaking legs over the side of the bed and started towards the door. 

It was late at night, but I didn't care. I couldn't put off this feeling any longer. I couldn't put off the nightmares. I wasn't even sure if I had come completely back into my senses as my hand hovered above my doorknob. I shook my head, clearing it and turned towards my window instead. The professor's balcony was right below my window, so I jumped down using my wings to land without breaking anything. 

Turning, I made my way to the conference they were having. I didn't ask permission or anything, just walked in to whatever it was they were doing. 

"Kookie? What on earth--?" 

"I want to go back," I stated, my voice giving away my tiredness. 

"Back? Back where?" Professor asked. For once he was confused. 

"To Washington. To Acola. I want to go back." Understanding suddenly began to shine in their minds. But before anyone could breath a word my mouth spoke something I didn't really understand. "And I want Scott to come with me." 


	76. Plane Sense

Lucky Me

Chapter 76

* * *

Author's Note: No, I do NOT hate cats. I love cats! ;). My eight year old kitten is my baby boy and my almost one year old puppy is my little girl. I just write Kerry not liking THIS cat, not cats in general. And for those non-believers in animal underwear thievery, my puppy DOES steal my underwear from the laundry ALL the time. *sighs* must teach her to STOP this before I have any friends over and they suddenly get a present that will have me digging my own grave. OH! And my beta-readers have been too busy playing computer games, so this is the un-betaed edition of the story, hopefully they'll get around to it soon and I'll repost this chapter with corrections.

* * *

We were suppose to leave on Wednesday (tomorrow). I had been packing for at least ten minutes when an unexpected event occurred: I got the gift back. My Dad's gift from Christmas that Jack had taken from the boathouse before those awful few months when we were at each other's throats (at each other's HEARTS to be more accurate). 

I was still speechless by the insight my father had when I was only fourteen. He had my grandpa's old air force wings fashioned into a necklace. It was my second set of wings from my Dad (since it has been said that the father carries the mutant gene). 

Back to the sentimental and less of the scientific! Jack had come into my room yesterday and sat on my bed petting my evil cat (which I have officially named Lucifer). I felt REALLY awkward pulling out, er, certain items from my drawers and shoving them into my duffle bag, but Jack was ten million miles away. 

"Is something wrong?" I tried to sound as casual as possible, like I was asking him to make sure that Lucy didn't help himself to any of my personal items. "You're really quiet." 

"You should be thankful," he replied half-heartedly. 

I gave him 'the look', "I had enough of your silence on that Saturday." 

"What are you talking about?" He questioned and then bit his lip, looking down at the purring demon in a fur coat. "It doesn't matter. I came--to give you something, Kerry." 

"You can try, but I should warn you I know where a fair amount of penicillin is." He gave a short laugh at that. 

"It's-- come here." I raised an eyebrow, shrugged and decided to play nice. I sat down next to him on the bed and Lucy looked at me and hissed. I looked at Lucy and flexed my claws at him. Lucy ran away. "It's this." 

He pulled out a box from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to me. My eyes were getting rather tired of tearing up as my heart was getting extremely worried about the amount of heart beats it was skipping these days. "My present from---" 

"Your Dad, yes." Jack replied solemnly. "I had it all this time, I didn't know when to give it back to you and you never really asked for it." 

"I wasn't sure that you kept it or throw it away." I confessed without really wanting to. 

He took my chin in his fingers to turn my eyes to his, "do you really think I'd do that to you? Knowing how much this means to you?" 

I swallowed hard, "you were pretty mad at me." For no good reason I might add now that I was thinking about it. 

"But I'm not that petty." Uh-huh, sure this coming from a male who went out with another female just to get me jealous. Yeah, I'll say he's above petty paybacks. "Open it, I hope you don't mind." 

Opening it? Why should I exactly? "Ohh…" It wasn't a bad 'oh' or an 'oh' that would be followed by taking a very powerful being's name in vain, it was the type of 'oh' that a girl looking at jewelry from a guy she, uh, really really liked had given her. 

"I really hope you don't mind. I just had something added to it, I can have it removed if you don't---" 

"I love it." I replied, again my brain raised it's hand to its face and slowly slid it down in frustration. "Why did you--?" 

"Because--it seemed to fit you." He wasn't telling the whole truth. You don't know someone for a whole year, live with someone for a whole year without picking up on their habits. I gave my attention back to the necklace now laying in my hands. It was only a silver set of pilot's wings with feathered wings on either side of a shield with vertical lines. It use to be a pin, but now it had a hoop on the top that allowed for a chain to go through. 

And there was a teardrop shaped stone attached to the bottom of the shield. 

Half blue, half green. 

"Is it real?" 

He let out a good long laugh at that, "why is that always the first question females ask?" 

I glared at him, "because men are notoriously cheap." 

"Point." He sobered, "do you like it?" 

"Nice way to avoid the question." I smirked at him, but his smile was in that 'I'm-thinking-of-picnic-in-the-parks' glazed over expression. "I like it, I love it, I told you that." 

"It is real, and it was expensive." Just had to slip that in somewhere. "Now turn around and I'll put it on you." 

I did as he asked, sweeping my hair into a hand so he had access to my neck. "But what if I lose it?" 

"It's a gift from your Dad, I don't think you'll ever lose it." I slumped, I had already lost it once. 

Getting up, I examined it in the mirror provided for me on the inside of my closet door. It was really pretty, the wings were shiny and the jewel/gem thingie sparkled. I felt like SUCH a girl-girl. He came up behind me and smiled. 

Turning to look at him, I smiled. "I'm glad to see you got over whatever was bugging you on Saturday." 

His eyebrow rose again, "You've lost me." 

"Saturday, our date?" I walked over to the dress and picked up people's exhibit A the chubby angel on the cloud. "Remember?" 

His brows knit together, "Kerry, I called you to cancel. I didn't leave the mansion on the Saturday we were suppose to go out." When I asked why, "Because someone stole my 'Jack' image inducer."

* * *

It was Wednesday and we were standing in front of the ticket counter at the local airport. I was told to pack light since we'd be there for three days, that is, of course, unless I felt like I needed more time. Professor was actually very understanding and agreed to my hasty request without much questioning. 

"Why…" I started, only to have Scott cut me off. 

"Didn't we take one of the jets? Because if this is what you need to feel normal, than it starts with having to get there." 

Okay, let me try again, "Why---" 

"Because you asked me to." Scott wasn't looking at me, which was a good thing because I was rolling my eyes. No, things weren't all magically better between Scott and me, it was put on 'hold' in some unspoken mutual agreement way. I didn't know how long it was going to last, but hopefully the residue of the nightmares would subside before then. 

It still chilled me to think about that awful nightmare. Choosing between Scott and Zach, both my Dads in different ways and me having to choose which one I wanted to be with. 

I sighed, "why---" 

"I don't know why, I was hoping you could tell me that. You wanted me here, but you jump at the sound of my voice and have been for the past few days. I hope you'll explain this, because we all really want an answer." Scott pointed out. 

I narrowed my eyes in a bored way, "Well that's all fine, but did HE have to come with us?" I asked, jerking a thumb over my shoulder where a glowering Chris stood. 

Glaring at him was all I could do because if I said anything about what the little twerp had done, I'd be having to explain a lot more than an image inducer to Scott.

* * *

On the plane I was a little put out that I was forced to sit next to Chris. 

I wanted to throttle Chris. The temptation of opening the hatch door and letting him get sucked out was VERY strong but Scott told us to be on our best behavior. If he had only said to be on good behavior Chris would have been airborne. 

Scott, the brave yet not so intelligent man, booked the flights so we were all sharing the same side of the plane. Three seats in a row. 

After the normal spill about what to do and not to do while on the plane and after we took off, Scott was the first to say something. 

"What's wrong, Kerry?" Oh sure! Wait till I'm trapped and THEN start the poking and prodding. 

"Nothing." 

"Right." 

"Nothing." Chris mocked, "liar." 

"Then why don't you elaborate you faker?" Chris' stare dropped into the sub-zero category. "Didn't think you would." 

I turned my nose up in the air, crossed my arms and faced away from him. Scott gave me this 'do-I-need-to-order-alcohol-now?' look. 

After another thirty minutes, Scott finally had enough and made a hasty exit to the bathrooms. I sat next to Chris, arms folded, eyes set in a firm glare. 

Then I heard him sigh, "you are one stubborn girl." 

I bristled, "sweet talking me isn't' going to make me forget." I snapped sarcastically. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw him whip his head around to face me. No doubt he was glaring at me. "If I was trying to sweet talk you, I'd also mention your flat chest, fried hair and crooked teeth." 

Let's just say when Scott came back from the bathroom, me and Chris were staring hotly at each other. Both pair of eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, faces set in the 'if I wouldn't get arrested…' mask. Then the genius man suggested the insane. "Since it appears the two of you aren't getting along very well, perhaps I should take the middle seat?" 

Not even caring that I lost the little staring contest, I got up , allowed Scott in and plopped down in the aisle seat. 

"I'm sticking with my original idea of guys." I glared at the seat in front of me. It should have caught fire. 

"And that would be?" 

"They suck!" Scott eased back into his chair-- after looking at me glare at the seat in front of me and then to Chris who was doing the same thing but only out the window. 

"At least I don't have to worry about you dating then." Glare shifted from back of the seat to Scott's face and then back to the seat. 

After a few more minutes, the flight attendant (Attlia the Hun because this one was even more strict that Scott, heck, I think Scott was scared of this woman. I wonder if I could set her and Mr. Poovey up on a date?) said they were going to start the in flight movie, if you wanted it, look at the seat in front of you and put on the headphones. 

"You suck." Chris muttered. 

Scott fidgeted with the screen in front of him. 

"Pimple face, pus eating maggot with no morals and no ba--." 

"Kerry!" 

"Bank account." I smiled innocently at Scott, who sighed, and quickly put on his headphones. 

Chris glared over at me, the only reason I knew this is because I was glaring at him first. He was such a creep! He STOLE Jack's image inducer and used it to go on a date with me! It would be sweet if it wasn't so freaking disturbing! 

"Twiggy, anal retentive valley girl." 

"Two-timing, double faced monkey butt sucker." I turned my nose up in the air, and looked dead ahead of me. You did not have a younger sibling and not learn how to throw dumb insults and names at each other. 

That's when a peanut hit my nose. I snapped my eyes back to Chris who had this smug look on his face that I just wanted to rearrange it. I was NOT going to be as childish as him. I was NOT! 

In irritation, I stuffed the last of my five sticks of gum into my mouth and chewed on it like a dog on a bone. 

Scott cleared his throat and leaned forward, since when were the opening credits so interesting? 

So I patiently waited for him to turn back towards the window. Through the corner of my eye, I saw my victim lean back in his seat, his eyes facing away from me and my slowly growing smirk. 

That's when the flight attendant walked by, her smile couldn't be more fake if you asked her to do it. She eyed both me and Chris, he didn't notice of course. 

Just as quick as a shoot I reached up and jammed some gum in his hair. It was past his shoulders. It was only fair. It was about as long as mine and if he hadn't turn around a second later, I really would have made it stick in there. 

"What are you trying to do? Jam a peanut in my ear?" He asked darkly, I smirked. 

"Darn, I guess you caught me." I smirked and crossed my arms, all my gum was successfully resting in his hair. 

Well, at least that was until he went to run his fingers through his air…let's just say it went down hill from there.

* * *

"You!" The angry woman grabbed me by the arm, gave one warning look to Chris and hauled me from the seat. "Are coming with me!" 

Like I had a choice? She had a grip that would have made Miss Rogue cringe. She dragged me down the aisle, pushed open a curtain and basically shoved me into a seat. 

"If I hear one word from you, or one compliant because you have discovered a new way to make a nuisance of yourself. I'll be very upset." She growled. Yeah, be upset my right wing. She was upset and ready to stone me with a complimentary bag of peanuts. 

She turned on her heel and stormed back to wherever it is stewardess go to when highly upset (and pretending not to be). I crossed my arms, and then decided it was best not to make eye contact with anyone. I must have looked just SO classy with the bits of chicken and fish smooshed in my hair and clothes. This was sad and really pathetic. Not to mention anger striking. 

I would have asked for a napkin or something but the stewardess gave me a glare that made my ancestors and future children shudder. I flipped my eyes up to the moon (saying skyward would be dumb since I was in the sky). 

Then I felt someone stop by my chair after a moment, I gave the woman a bored look. She gave me a hateful 'thou art scum' expression. "I would like to change seats with you, miss." I hiked an eyebrow up. 

"I don't think I am allowed---" 

"M-Ms. Parker!" The evil flight attendant came rushing up to the middle age woman with severly tight hair. "I-I'm sure this little---girl," why do I have a feeling she was about to say some two bit gutter description? "wouldn't mind exchanging seats. Where are you sitting by the way?" 

The woman looked like Emma Frost as a nasty scowl crossed her face. "I'm in row 2 seat b. Isn't it your life to know this type of menial information?" The evil one's eyes popped open painfully and she smiled nervously, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me up the aisle yet again. 

"I have the strangest sense of déjà vu, don't you?" 

She, again, threw me down in the seat and glared at me. Looking past me, at whoever was lucky enough to be by the window, the evil one went pale and quickly started her Porky Pig impression yet again. "T-this must be some mistake!" 

"There is no mistake, Ms. James." Aw, so she did have a name (and a rocket in her tush she ran away so fast)---but….wait a second. "Hello, Miss Summers." Came a smooth, strong voice. I nearly melted when I saw who it was I sat by. 

"H-hello." I stuttered, I recognized the voice, the gorgeous face, but the name completely escaped me at the moment. The light gray eyes, almost looking like silver and my brain suddenly started to drip out of my mouth as I drooled over this guy (not really but you understand). 

"Do you not recognize me?" Oh I recognize you, no problem. It's getting any of my other senses beside sight to work when you're around that is my problem. Then he did the really dangerous thing and smiled at me. Now, I love Jack's boyish smile, it's the type that will make you feel shy and loved all at once. This smile, this gorgeous angel on earth (well, air, whatever) has a smile that made you feel like you were wrapped in velvet with a box of chocolate candy. It was just so---seductive yet naïve? I dunno. It was just making my gears clink and break. 

"I--uh, M-Mr. Wa--Worthington's " Yes, folks, this is as intelligent as I can be when faced with the greatest beauty I've ever seen (can you feel the strongest urge of teenage hormones?). 

"Donovan St. Loy, Miss Summers." I had to hold in the geeky laugh. "It's a pleasure to be able to converse with you once more. I was distracted too quickly last time." 

"Y-yeah. I mean yes." Suddenly I felt the need to enroll myself in a finishing school. "I--was--you--- How stupid do I sound?" 

I looked away from him, feeling my cheeks heat up. "You do not sound unintelligent at all, Miss Summers. Just a nervous woman." Oh great, now my cheeks have caught fire. Donovan called me a 'woman' (not denying I'm female for sure, but they've been calling me kid for forever). "Do you mind elaborating on exactly how you came up with such a decorative attire?" 

My eyes shot open and over to him. "I--had problems with one of my---friends." The way I spit out the last word should have been a heavy indication that I was using the term extremely loosely. 

"Please, continue." 

If I was to prevent myself from stuttering and talking about complete idiotic things, I should take the opportunity and I did. "It's hard to explain but my friend, Chris, decided to back stab me by pretending to be my boy---er, my good friend. And just because he likes me he pulled this stupid stunt and I found out last night and now we are traveling to Washington together!" 

"Alone?" The word was beautiful. Don't ask me why I've gotten so weird, I just have with this guy. 

"No! No. With my ---Dad, Chris only came along because it was either that or a homicide would occur because he and this Julie girl hate each other and I'm talking your ear off." I put my crimson face in my hand. 

Then I heard him laugh softly, it was more like a gentle, joking growl, man, I need therapy. "But you have yet to answer my question?" He had an accent. 

"Oh--right. He flicked a peanut at me, I shoved gum in his hair. When I went to the bathroom, he ordered fish for my meal. I don't really like fish, especially the type you can't name. So I flung my fish at him, and we started a huge food fight and my Dad was completely ignoring us." I left out about the hair pulling and the ketchup packet shooting at each other. 

"I see, interesting. Is that the reason Ms. James decided to promote you to first class?" I turned to him, there was a softer smile on his face but still totally knee weakening. 

"I-I guess so." I gave him a weak smile, and I doubt he thinks my smile is as powerfully stimulating as I think his is. 

"Then you must be hungry still, there are forty minutes left in the flight. I could have something brought to you, if you so desired." I started to resemble what the fish sticks in my hair once looked like. "Very well, Ms. James." He barely raised his voice and then BAM there she was. 

Hmph. Must be the perks of being rich not to have to practically burn down my seat to get a stewardess to come give me something. 

"Yes, sir?" 

"Please have a lunch plate brought to Miss Summers immediately." She opened her mouth to protest but he barely rose an eyebrow and she stuttered an apology before scampering off. 

"I don't have any money to---" 

"Miss Summers, please do not insult my manners with such trivial matters as money." My first impression got a work-out today as my mouth hung open again. Donovan only slightly smiled.

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" Chris grumbled, "You weren't the one who had to go around apologizing to everyone." He shot me a nasty look. "Or get their nasty looks and curses." 

Scott hadn't said a word, well, besides the threat of having the two of us take a separate cabs to the hotel. Now he sat up front, arms crossed, and not happy, almost dark. 

"Oh don't be such a dork. It's not like I got off easy you know." 

"Punishment times ten, you got to sit and pris around with the stuck up snobs of first class. I can see where you'll be emotionally scared for life." 

"Nothing scares me more than the thought of you trying to kiss me again." 

He shut up. When we got to the hotel, we got two separate rooms. I felt nervous and sick being so close back to my old home. It caught me off guard when Chris followed me to the room, slammed the door and stared at me. 

"Okay, talk." He stated. 

"About what?" I asked, coldly. 

"About why you can't just get over it." 

I can't believe he'd do something like that! 

"Did I make any moves?" 

I had to force myself to answer, "no." 

"Did I do anything wrong?" 

My answer was going to be a 'yes' but the look he gave me, "I suppose nothing inappropriate." 

"I just wanted to talk to you without you trying to throw me out or threaten to chop off the protruding parts of my body." 

"If that's what you wanted you should have just come out and said it!" 

"You wouldn't listen, just like you're not listening now. Once an idea gets into that thick skull of yours, it's nearly impossible to eradicate it because your brain wraps around it so tightly it chokes out the possibility of anything else!" 

I felt like punching him, "that is not true!" 

"Great defense, maybe you should study to be a lawyer." 

Suddenly the idea of asking if Mr. Remy had a voodoo doll he could lend me just became SO much more appealing. I crossed my arms and told him to leave. I really didn't want to fight with him without an audience, where would the fun be in that?

* * *

Later that night, when I was sure that Scott at least was in bed and not holding a glass to the wall to hear me (not like he would I don't think). I pulled out the calling card Jack gave me and dialed up his number. I really needed to hear a friendly voice. 

"How was your trip?" Jack asked. Yes, I called him around ten that night (I knew Scott was most likely in bed and I wouldn't get caught). The poor male of my species should have never asked that question. 

"Besides having that idiot Chris tag along, having peanuts, fish and chicken thrown at me and getting covered in coleslaw and peas, I hate peas, then basically thrown in to first class, being even MORE embarrassed there and told I would never be able to ride on another airplane again? Fine. Everything has been great." I huffed as I landed on my bed, spread out as much as I could. 

He laughed, "I see. And why is Chris an idiot now?" 

"What do you mean, now? Chris is always an idiot." I muttered, curling up into a ball. "He pretended to be you that Saturday. I wasn't sure it was him, but when Jack came to visit after you left and I grabbed his hand---it was bandaged. I hurt the same hand on Chris and made double sure it was him before threatening his life repeatedly." Makes it sound so simple doesn't it? Actually I had thrown everything but the cat at Chris when I had found out. 

"Oh." Like that is the one answer that sums up everything. "D-did you have fun?" 

I raised an eyebrow and held the phone away to give it a questionable look. Putting the phone back to my ear, "What kind of question is that? I thought it was you." I paused, trying to recall that day, "Okay, I thought it was partially you." 

"Partially me? Please explain this theory to the uneducated minds in the way of Kookie." It was so nice to hear HIM be happy and joking again. 

"Chris, while pretending to be you, had certain things that just weren't you. He was too quite, not quick on the comebacks…and he blushed. A lot." 

"What the heck were you two doing to make him blush?" 

"Nothing, he just grabbed my hand once and started to blush like mad." I shrugged, even though I know he wouldn't see it. "Don't ask me why he acted like such a sheltered priest on parole." 

"I'm sure Kurt would be thrilled to hear that analogy." We talked for about a half hour more before I started to yawn like crazy and beg him to let me get some sleep. His last words were echoing through my head as I finally drifted off to dream land. 

"It's nice to hear you laugh again, Kerry."

* * *

Author's Note P.S.: Okay, I know this was mostly a sucky chapter, but trust me, the next few will be better. ;) I had to throw Donovan back in because I had some people asking me to make him reappear. *shrugs* Sighs, I am about to add to my unfinished fic list an Inuyasha story….this should be interesting….


	77. KerryGoRound

Lucky Me:

Chapter 77 

* * *

Author's Note: *cries* no body loves me no mores! Oh, by the way, check out Kookie's Pan for new 'author' art. I put up something I think Kerry/Bobby shippers will like. ;) The rest are just fun stuffs! Oh and check the 'author' section for pictures from my party! Totally fun. 

* * *

"So are you still upset?" 

Scott opened his menu so hard I was afraid he was going to rip it in two. Oh-kay, I'll take that as a 'yes' in body language. Actually that was a very face-slapping yes in body language. 

Chris had his arms crossed and face turned away like a regular pouting brat. We were down in the hotel restaurant trying to order breakfast. Scott probably found it extremely hard to order without talking. 

"Has he been like this all night?" I asked in a chilled voice. 

"Do you ever remember me and him getting into in-depth conversations?" he replied as smooth as ice. 

"No, but then again, I doubt you are capable of meaningful conversations." Chris rolled his eyes. 

"And like you are? Besides rolling your eyes and glaring at me, do you really ever say anything 'meaningful'?" 

I was looking the other direction and feigned to be not listening to him. "Did you say anything?" 

Throwing up his hands, "You have the attention span of a humming bird on cocaine!" 

Scott snorted with a laugh. 

That got both of us looking at the adult of the group. 

Was he siding with CHRIS now?!

* * *

It was around eleven when my stomach knotted up so tight in my body I felt like it was going to turn into a black hole and eat me alive. We were in the downtown area, I recognized the salon where Heather used to work. Mrs. Bertty was always nice; she's the type of grandmother figure I could only dream of having and she ran the beauty salon. 

My old high school, abandoned and forgotten for the summer. 

The park where I had purposely lost my little sister when she 'accidentally' rammed her bike into my leg. 

And the old church where----where the funeral service for my Dad was held. 

"Are we there yet?" Chris questioned. 

"Almost. It's the third house on the left down Byrd street." 

"Byrd?" Scott repeated. 

"It's not like I could have told the future. It's just one of the coincidences." 

"Right." 

When we pulled up to my old, two-story house. It was almost just like I remembered it. Except there was no Darcy on the porch, no mom fussing at Darcy on the porch and no Dad's truck in front of the garage. There was nothing but an empty shell of a house now with a 'for sale' sign on the lawn. 

We parked, and both guys were very aware of me because I was very aware of them. I gave a nervous smile and opened the car door. No need to just sit in the car staring at it all day, now, is there? Of course, Chris couldn't help himself and decided to take out whatever frustrations he had on me and mine. 

"A baby blue house with green and yellow shutters," he stated flatly and then looked over at me (who was very, very annoyed with him at this moment) "This is like hell done in pastels." 

"So my parents weren't exterior designers, so what?" 

"Were they also blind?" 

I gritted my teeth and Scott suggested we take this inside before anyone saw us (or before powers became involved). Chris had the intelligence to ask how we were suppose to get into a locked-up house and Scott merely looked at me and I smiled. I had snuck out of this house a million times. I knew every way in. I just hoped I remembered them. 

There were three doors: the front, the back and one of those miscellaneous doors that were in a weird spot for no real reason. The weird, pointless door had a horrible feature. No lock. Weird, yes, but what can I say? It was a blessing in disguise. 

But, after ditching Chris, I didn't want to go in first. Instead, I quietly asked Scott to follow me (maybe if I offered him an X-men-ish Snack?). I headed down the path I had taken two and over a half years ago. Down the path to the old lot where the old tree house was. The place where Dad had died. 

It's amazing just how strong memories get when you go back to where you made them. 

It was horrible. Some type of Catch 22 if you asked me. A nasty glitch in the memory to remember the bad and the good, but mainly the bad. It just made me want to have amnesia. 

I frowned at that thought. 

"Where are we?" Scott asked innocently enough. 

"This is where---" I choked. Where was all my wit and sarcasm now? I guess after flinging it at Chris all day long I'd run out of acid remarks. So, what is a smart aleck to do when cornered with a jab? Tell the truth. I feel so naked without my sarcasm. "My dad." 

I'm going to guess that by the way he stopped for a fraction of a second and sucked in a breath he understood what I meant. Going over to the big tree, the tree house was even more dilapidated and looked as if someone had been throwing cannonballs through it for entertainment or something. 

It maybe had one nail to lose before collapsing in on itself. 

Seeing as how someone finally scraped the mold off their brain and took down the wooden planks the kids usually used to get in the old tree house, I had to ask for Scott's help. 

"Be careful. How could I face Jean if you broke your neck?" He asked once I had shimmed into the tree house. 

"With a boat load of chocolate and elusive answers." He either groaned or was doing an impersonation of an old plank of wood. 

My heart sank. I knew it! I was a closet masochist! I live for bringing pain to myself! I'd hurt me if I thought it would do any good. Why did I want to come back here? The place where I had been SUCH a stupid kid? Looking over the small space my mind reeled in fear. 

There was a shiny box in the corner not far from the place I had wiggled through. 

It didn't look like it had been rotting here for long, maybe a few days, because the pink, shiny ribbon was slightly matted. Grabbing it, I felt my blood shrink away from my heart and decide to throw a party in my feet. 

The little address card read, 'Kookie' on it. 

Why, if that had freaked me out, did I have to open the stupid thing?! 

I pushed the goofy, pink ribbon aside---but there was something that distracted me. 

The sound of about ten thousand bolts of electricity ripping through the air would be a good distraction for anyone. 

"Kerry, get down here, now! That came from the direction of the house!" Before I was even down, Scott was tearing through the field. I clutched the package close to my chest and dropped to the ground, following close behind him. 

By the time we reached the back of my old house, there was nothing to be seen or heard. 

This put me on high alert. 

We crept along the back, Scott going into full Cyclops mode. "Stay behind me." Typical man, thinking he had to protect the 'little girl'. 

"I'll go in the front way. You stay back. We don't know what to expect." 

"What if he just saw a rat and got scared?" I questioned, and it was a GOOD reasonable question if you ask me! 

By the dead look Scott gave me I don't think he thought so. (LOL) "Just do it." Ohhh, he's going to be in trouble when Nike finds out he stole their slogan (I'm nervous okay!). 

He disappeared around the side of the house, and because no one had ever had the energy to oil the door, the screen creaked open, then I heard it whine shut. Perhaps I should have warned him about the talking door? Too late now. 

Like a good little chikadee, I waited for him to come out the back door and say something along the lines of waiting for a signal or something. 

Uh, Scott never told me the signal I was suppose to watch out for. Oh great. I was going to end up dead because I was too dense to ask what signal! 

So very Kerry. 

And then came a gun shot. Now, like most morons you see in the movies, yes, I moved CLOSER to where the noise came from. Just as I swung open the back door Scott disappeared through it. WHAM! 

ME and foreign body went flying backwards into the yard. 

Whoever it was needed not to be so freaking friendly with the Burger King and kiss up to a lettuce (not to mention some toothpaste). Grunting, I went to shove the guy off of me but, my luck held strong and he started to wake up. 

"M-mutie!" Okay, no more nice flattened Kookie. I tucked my legs under him, and above me and then pushed, hard, sending him on his return flight with the door. He hit the frame of the house with a crack that made my stomach say 'oh, that's going to linger'. 

There are some sounds so unique no one could ever mistake them. The sound of Scott's eyebeams is one of them. I thought there might be more men, and when guns went off and the kitchen window exploded from two men flying through it (not by their choice) I took that as a 'yes'. 

I know, I know, I should have struck a pose and come off as threatening, but something about seeing the little black arm bands with 'F.o.H.' embroidered on it just had me ready to either wet my pants or have a heart attack. 

Scott could continue having his hay day, I was having a heart attack (less messier than wetting one's pants I assure you, less embarrassing as well). 

It was the face of a man I recognized. 

It was George. 

And for those who have faulty memories, this guy haunts my dreams. Picture a gun, my dad, a shot and a screaming girl. 

Staggering backwards, mouth open and my hands doing this weird shaky thing like the time I accidentally took a swig of Dr. Hank's coffee. Ugh, I was like a bee on crack. 

Honestly, I was trying to dive bomb people when Mr. Warren was showing me air maneuvers. Eventually, he ended up throwing me into the swimming pool to calm me down. 

"Ugh, muties…" George muttered hotly, just about the time I heard a crunch from under my foot. Glancing under my foot, it was the package. The guys on the lawn weren't moving too quickly and I was experienced enough to know how to run…er, fight. 

Snatching the package, I opened my wings and with one quick flap, I was in a tree. Perhaps a little less gracefully than I should have been, but I was up there and out of trouble for the time being. 

George. Gah, I hate that man. I never took my eyes off the murderous, heartless coward as my finger fumbled with the package. I felt the note first and flicked my eyes to it long enough to read it before settling on hawking George again. He was getting up and muttering about dumb people in general (nice to know he doesn't have it against mutants alone). 

I almost fell out of the tree. 'Revenge,' was all the note read. 

It was in the same type of handwriting as the last note I had gotten with the dead birds. 

Another 'zap' and another grunt of pain. Scott sounded like he was wrapping things up pretty fast in there. George was on the move, and I could only guess he was looking for me as he crept closer to my perch. His hand was holding a nice new shiny gun. 

Not this again. I finally reached into the box and pulled out the other object, the one I believe was making it so heavy. 

A gun. 

I became solid lead. 

There was a small gift-note-type thing taped on the shiny surface. 'To you, compliments of Geor…' then it ran off, but I wasn't as stupid to think it was suppose to be anything but "George". My world went gray as the only thing which was colored was the flowery note on the black and gray gun. 

Mr. Bishop taught me about the basics of guns back in New York. The most important thing was the safety and the bullets. There were two or so shots left in this one. A twig was snapped. Everything became colored again, and clearer. 

Whoever it was that knew so much about me, knew the truth about my dad's death. Had the GUN for crying out loud. Had a gun, which was in my hand, and the person who took my dad away was walking aimlessly beneath me. 

Temptation is a sweet drug to have to fight. 

If you even try to fight it. 

* * *

The gang members were taken care of by Scott, and we left quickly. From the middle of town, an anonymous caller tipped off the police about some vandals who broke into an empty house. Armed and dangerous, oh and some might need medical attention. They 'fell'. 

Scott kept asking if we were okay. Chris' pride was bashed pretty hard due to being knocked out, but he proudly reminded us that he'd taken two of the eight men down with him. I was shaken up, but otherwise okay. I should have known something like this was going to be pulled. It would be too easy for something in my life to go right. 

In the back of my jeans, tucked with the curve of my spine was a little present I took from the scene. Scott didn't know and neither did Chris. It would remain that way. No need for them to think less of me and my choices. 

Not wanting to have another run-in with the morons from the depths of Washington, Scott quickly drove us back to the hotel and told us to wait, not make a scene, and then drove off like he'd just called Jean fat. Even faster, like he had called Miss Rogue fat. 

Deadly and stupid. This is how fast he drove off without us. 

"What's wrong with you, bird brain?" Ugh, now I know why Mr. Warren dislikes all the bird remarks. They get SO old SO fast and show a COMPLETE lack of creativity. I mean at least Bobby-Jerk had the decency to think of 'fuzzy bat' at one point and time. Of course I hit him so hard upside the head after that comment he probably got memory loss from it and forgot what he said. 

"Nothing's wrong," I replied smoothly, turning to go to my room. 

He groaned. "Oh come on." 

I thought was his problem with me, because I wouldn't 'come on'. I shut the door on the grumbling boy and flung myself down on the bed (face first since I didn't know if falling on my back would set off the gun, effectively shooting myself in the behind no less). 

The gun quickly got removed from my jeans and I flipped it on the bed beside me. The only thing I could do was stare at it. My heart was empty, or overloaded, I don't know. It just felt like a cookie tin without anything but empty wrappers and crumbs. 

The safety was on, which was a good thing. 

After all there was still one round left.

* * *

Two days later, Scott felt it was safe enough for us to actually leave the hotel rooms and adventure out to the graveyard. I felt dread creep over me (no pun intended). In my suitcase, wrapped in layers upon layers of aluminum foil and clothes was the gun. Yes, I'm perverse enough to take it back with me. It wasn't out in the open or anything; it was safely stitched into something, which might be hard to believe. 

At any rate, we were once again on the road in a new rental car because Scott, being the nervous kind, thought they might be looking for the car. 

"It's a precaution." He had clarified when Chris and I both asked him why. This probably had something to do with the note that the gift-giver person had given me (purposefully having a brain collapse about the gun at this point). 

"It's paranoia." I replied tonelessly. Not that he didn't have a right to be. After all, he was the one who zapped, punched, kicked and did other bodily harm to a bunch of guys that a few years ago I couldn't even have fathomed the flicking of their ears. 

But so much can change in a few years. 

Or in one day. 

My mood must have shifted substantially because Scott asked once again if I was okay. The biggest smile spread across my face and I shook my head like a little kid who just polished off a lollipop the size of my head. 

I was glad I didn't have breakfast as we pulled up to the cemetery. No one was there, thank goodness. Not that we looked like grave robbers or anything (all though Chris had gone to his all black wardrobe again) but I just felt better knowing no one would be there. 

It had been a while but you never forget where. I don't think anyone could ever forget where. I made a beeline straight for the marker. Scott followed me and Chris wondered off somewhere to do things. Probably with Scott's threat of any vandalism and he'd personally train him in all areas of his life for the next two weeks. If Chris survived the first day. 

This man was scary even on vacation! 

There we stood sooner than I had wished it. Zacheriah Foxx D'Mon. Beloved Husband, Father and Son. I felt the tears start to pull. Bending down, I started to scrape away the overgrowth of grass and other vegetation. Here he was, just like he had been. 

No dumb GraveWorm or whatever to make him a puppet of destruction. Dad was still gone or as the pastor had put it 'in a better place.' 

There no real describing what it feels like at this place. Everything seems so pointless. Of course, whenever my mind blanks, that's when you get songs stuck in your head. 

_'Cause your last words, are your last words   
No thoughts, no feelings, no emotions can be heard   
Echoin' through eternity   
Like your words echo inside of me.   
And there's no way to take it back, to apologize, press rewind   
You're out of time   
'Cause your last words, is your whole life---simplified_

"I'm sorry." I whispered, hoping somehow he heard. "I should never have brought you here. You have enough problems without adding me to the mix." I'm sure by now Scott realized I had been either talking to him indirectly or both him and Zach directly. Who really gives a feathery forehead? 

"I know you didn't ask for the job." I kept staring at the chiseled 'Father' on the marker. "I didn't think I turned out according to anyone's plan. Especially not my plan." Brushing the grass softly the tears slowly made their way out of my eyes. My shoulders sagged and my heart became a puddle of useless tears as the sun's light cast Scott's shadow over the tombstone. 

"Everything I've tried to do was to try and make you proud, for you to like my burden. But I guess no one can match up with such high standards. Did you really think I could obtain that goal?" I definitely wasn't talking to my biological dad anymore. This was all Scott. "Sometimes it ---almost seems that you don't care but then everyone says I'm crazy because you did or do or whatever." 

I heard Scott make a noise, sort of like shifting from foot to foot. I didn't mean to make him antsy. I didn't even know this is what I want---needed to do. How the heck was I supposed to know? I can't diagnose myself. 

"I can't do anything right, can I? Nothing can make what I HAVE done right." I gritted my teeth. "Nothing can be forgiven. I don't want them to be forgiven." Okay, this was now 'inner-Kookie' talk coming out in all its grimy glory. I shook my head trying to get the skeletons back in their padlocked closets. 

Standing up, my arms wrapping around myself since it was suddenly cold. Over my shoulder, I studied Scott. His face was sympathetic. Perhaps he's had one of these talks to a tombstone before. Probably Jean's. Of course they could start a museum for that lady's grave markers. 

"I always thought he'd be there." I whispered. "If I had only known…" What I wanted I didn't know, but my heart melted even more (which, since it was a puddle at this point would seem impossible). Scott had put his arm around me and drew me to him. That was the only invitation I requested, no R.S.V.P. for me. I started to ball. 

"Those questions won't get answered, Kerry." Scott whispered into my hair. I was crying on his shoulder and he allowed me to, holding me in a protective hug. "At least not by me or you. You can't change the past." Scott's voice was thicker, like it was trying not to break down right along with me. 

Perhaps he is more human than I gave him credit for. 

A lifetime could have snuck by without my realizing it. I kept my head in his shoulder long after the tears had dried. Scott didn't push me away or move. He must have had a lot of practice with emotionally unstable females. Maybe it was just these types of situations he had known for too long. 

This roller coaster week was too much for me. I felt safe right now. That's all that matters right? Feeling safe and protected by the person who you kinda consider your dad? 

Not a new one, just---someone who you look up to. It's so hard to explain. 

So I'll go the Kookie way out of it, and I won't explain. 

Everyone can just guess. 

Once I finally did release the poor, soaked man (who had been wearing a suede jacket which was now sporting a dark spot about the size of my fist on the shoulder---egads, didn't he scotch guard that thing?) I sniffled and stayed next to the grave a few more minutes. Talking in my head, having a feeling my dad could hear me without verbalizing myself. 

As we started to leave, Chris came jogging up to us and for once knew not to say anything. He even agreed to go start the car (anything to escape the odd air around me and Scott I bet). 

Scott looked down at me, "I didn't want to risk the chance of ruining your home." He frowned a second later, "but it seems I did." 

My heart tightened as I looked back in the direction of the cemetery gates. "You couldn't've." I could just feel the huge question mark being shot in my direction, "my home's in New York now, isn't it?" 

I expected to see him nervous or looking away, instead Scott looked down at me with a normal, pleased soft smile on his lips. 

"And I want to go home now," I gave a finally examination in the direction of my hometown. This was really going to be it. No more Acola, Washington. No more haunting past, well, there would be. But hopefully there wouldn't be any more sanity questioning nightmares. I had finally taken care of that nightmare. I turned and gave a Scott a smile, "Dad." 

* * *

Back due to popular questioning! Questions, Comments and Criticism:   
Girlonthem00n: -sighs- my beta reader was almost drooling at the character description of Donovan. Weird, non?  
Cris-X: Here it is! Back at last! Yippee!  
Silvergryffin: Donovan is a person who ranks up there with Warren in the business world. And I've never given a description of 'Jack'. ;)  
Sam: Knew what? *looks confused*  
S.W.H: I didn't think they were confusing….neither did my betas….hmm, anyway the laughs will be back on in the next chapter. ;)  
AngstWolf: *smiles* good grammar is never a requirement with me!  
Water Angel: thanks!  
CiCi: He's not stalking, just playing around or something Guys are so freaking hard to understand!  
PrimaDonna: I still have those pictures on my computer and those anime videos to hang over your head oh darling of a better reader!  
Kittenchatter: You will all know who jack is (hopefully) for Chapter 99 or so. Heh, yes, I am that long winded!


	78. Two Steppin' Sentinels

Lucky Me

Chapter 78

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, I don't have a clue as to which chapter MG will be revealed. Though I do know that this story will probably make it only to 100 thru 110 chapters. Like that's some small feat, neh? ANYWAYS. Finals week is evil and mean. The shouldn't make us cram so much useless information into our heads! I would really really like some fanart! I love the ones I got but I'm about to break up the current pictures into 'author' and actual 'fan' art. Please? *makes with the puppy eyes* And just because I'm weird, it's a week until Kerry's b-day in our time, not hers Dec 22!!! 

* * *

Never doubt for a second that your life will start to go well without hitting a brick wall with an "X" fixed on it. 

Just when I thought they couldn't get any weirder, or ask anything else from me, they went and poked me in the side and laughed. 

They were freaking crazy. I've said it before, but now I have die hard proof (literally, these people are like impossible to kill they always come back ---according to the files on the computer at least). 

They looked back at me, and to think I thought my first day of school (last Monday) was going to be tough. But when I walked into the Danger Room on the second Saturday of August, I was struck speechless. I had gotten my times confused apparently. 

Instead of seeing Flex, Shockwav, and Black Flame (D-M was taken out of commission) there was Phoenix, Gambit, Rogue, Iceman, and Angel. In other words, I think this was the re-vamped blue team (or gold, either way, the one Cyclops usually mans). My team colors were unofficially black and red. So we weren't the Black team or the Red team, we were the last ditch effort team. 

"Uh," I started to back up when I hit something that was warmer than the doors. Scott. He looked down at me and I nearly jumped right onto Gambit again because the guy surprised me. Looking between the team and their leader, I decided to make a hasty exit. "Well, guess I'll be going." Nervous laughter, turn on the heel, but a iron grip on my arm stopped me. 

"You're supposed to be in here," Scott started. "This is your team." 

Is the room spinning or is it just me? "Huh?" Must be me. 

"For the next few weeks in the Danger Room, you will instruct this team. I will be taking over yours." What kind of person thought THIS new torture device up?! They were probably going to video tape this (haha yeah RIGHT) exercise and show it at the 'X-men's Funniest Home Videos' or something. 

"Why?" I whined, facing the team. 

"Because you need to be able to lead those who might be older and more experienced than you." That was the lamest thing I've heard in a while. 

"Chris and Adrian are older than me." 

"By a few years if even that much." 

I examined them again; most wore amused looks. Scott didn't seemed amused; he appeared to be serious. I was going to die under my own orders! "I can't do this!" Yes, when pressured by adults I will take the pathetic (yet effective!) way out of pitching a fit and crying like a little kid in the toy store. 

"You haven't even tried yet." 

"Because I'm sane enough to know better!" I protested, crossing my arms. 

"I think she's just intimidated by our good looks." 

"Certainly couldn't be intimidated by your brains, Drake." My hand flew to cover my mouth as Gambit laughed at the comment. The amused looks got even more amused. 

"This is an order, Blight," Cyclops stated in all his authoritative glory. 

I glared hard and long. He didn't even flinch. "Fine." 

Fine, if he wanted me to do this suicidal thing, I'd do it. But I was either going to make them grovel before me (not likely in any stretch of the imagination) or I'd just mess with their heads. From what I understood, many of them already had their heads messed with so it wouldn't be hard to make them see what a big fat mistake me being in charge was. 

"Your exercise is a simple one: Sentinels." And with that, Cyclops left the room. 

I was left with my new 'puppies' and I was the Alpha female. Funny how I felt my non-existent puppy tail shake between my legs were it was securely tucked. 

"Well, boss what is it you want us to do?" Bobby-Jerk asked, leaning against the wall trying to look cool. 

I gave him my best serious expression. "Teach them the two step." 

"What?" Gambit asked, more than a bit interested now. 

I shrugged and repeated what I said as if it was the most logical thing ever. "I want you to teach the Sentinels to two-step." 

No one probably thought this was a good idea. In fact, from the way they all looked like fish in a steel aquarium, they were probably thinking _I_ wasn't a good idea. 

"Why?" Miss Rogue finally drawled out. 

Shrugging again. "Because anyone can destroy them. Try to teach them something, now there's a real challenge." 

"And this would benefit our cause how?" Jean asked. Suddenly she didn't look so well. 

"It would build character." I stated as if I knew what I was talking about in a sane way. "If you teach a few of them to dance, they could in turn teach others the same and in five years they would be on cable in the first annual Sentinel Two-Step competition." I paused. "Not to mention it would allow them to filter out their anger in more constructive ways." 

When I was done, you could almost hear the crickets outside chirping. 

Smiling innocently, "Let's begin!" 

As predicted, they went in their natural swing of working together without noticing me. All I had to do was stay out of the way and look like a leader without actually doing anything. My claws could be helpful, but I chose not to chance breaking them. Petty yes, but it was still a valid excuse. Pain is always an excuse. 

"Don't these things stay dead?" Miss Rogue screamed. 

"Not if they're names are Grey or Summers." 

Jean found it funny to send something flying dangerously close to my head. I yelped and ducked in the air. Her sense of humor was just wrong at times. After what felt like an eternity of me dodging giving orders and flying sentinel parts, the Danger Room returned to normal. Well, as normal as a basement built to instruct and help mutants fight and so on and blah blah. You get the joke, why should I continue? 

The Professor and Scott probably were watching from their little god seats. I was proven correct when I heard the Professor state, "Do over." 

Then he heard ME state something. "Huh? Why?" I felt my eyebrow start to tick in anger. 

"The exercise was--a failure." Professor Xavier said calmly. 

I groaned and ground my palm into my forehead, "How? I mean, they made the big nasty robots go 'boom'. What went wrong?" 

"They never completed the objective of the exercise." What was that? To strike cool poster poses while making the big nasty robots go 'boom'? 

"And that would be?" 

"I do believe you wished the team to teach the sentinels to ---two step." One big nasty bug just came back to bite me in my behind. "Do over." 

* * *

I threw myself in my desk and sighed deeply. Sometimes it sucked being both a mutant of spandeX and a senior in high school. It was Adrian, Julie and me this year. No Chris (graduated, remember?). Of course, there was some debate over Julie's green card or whatever so she started today instead of last week like the rest of us suckers. 

Where was D-M? That was easy. At the house getting home-schooled until they felt like she could handle the pressures of public/private education again. It probably helped to finalize their decision when Daisy spent two days with the flu last week and was now sporting a pretty nasty cut on her left arm. They thought she was inflicting pain on herself. Weird huh? 

But back to Julie. 

Of course Julie wouldn't be her bratty, nerve grating self without opening her big trap. 

It was a nightmare I should have seen coming. 

Julie versus Mr. Poovey, yes it was a spectacular fight. 

Yes there was preverbal blood spilt. 

No, I don't know how they are going to get it out of the carpet. 

I was in the same class as she was, though why she, a British born bad girl, had to learn about American Government was beyond me. I didn't set her schedule, I just had to endure it. Back to Mr. Poovey's. 

Picture this, we, the good brain washed students of any given high school with putrid uniforms, all walked in and sat down. He was going to reassign us anyway, so wherever your hind end ended up wasn't important at this moment. 

And then the dreaded guy came in, Mr. Poovey in all his fearsome, F-handing-out glory. I never checked my final grade, I purposefully tore it up and hid it in one of my desk drawers back at the mansion. 

A minute later, the horror named Julie made her debut in the eighth realm of heck. I think she comes from the ninth realm, personally. 

"You're late," Mr. Poovey stated. 

Julie, in turn, snorted. "Be happy I'm here." 

Not good, and everyone knew that. Complete silence came over the room. Mr. Poovey looked Julie up and down, and glared. 

"Fishnets are against school dress code." 

"Wot's an old badger like you looking for anyway?" Julie snapped back. "Isn't that sexual harassment to be giving your students the one over?" I shrunk further into my seat. Maybe no one would ever have to know I knew this girl. "Besides, SHE" of course she was pointing to me, "never told me otherwise. I just wasn't informed. Jump down her bloody throat, not mine!" 

Everyone looked at me, and I could only mutter under my breath about choking the girl with those debatable fishnet stockings. Though the brainless girl gave it her all, I do believe Mr. Poovey won when he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her off to the principal's. Of course, Julie was screaming 'abuse, abuse' at the top of her lungs. 

I heard she got suspended for the rest of the week. 

* * *

I was in last period which, sadly, was 'study hall' once again. But this year they assigned me to Mr. Drake. It would figure. Of course there was his drooling fan girls happily swarming around him like flies to a dead animal (what, you want me to compare him to honey in his current position?). 

Not all the girls were preoccupied with Mr. Drake, there was a fair amount hanging around Adrian. They were laughing with him and flipping their hair as they toyed with his. After all, he was the big, buff football player. 

This was pathetic. Only me and the other handful of guys thought this. There were about 11 girls (including me) and 6 guys (including Adrian and Mr. Drake). 

I was going to give them heck my next opportunity. Imagine the nerve of HIM. I was trying my best not to look, but he shot me one of the smiles he usually did when being sheepishly guilty of something and I turned my head from him. If he wanted to make a fool out of himself that was his choice. He wasn't going to drag me into this (further than I already was, especially not in front of other people). 

When one of his concubines broke free long enough to realize they were in a semi-public setting, the girl sat down next to me and started to fan herself. "He is so hot." 

The noise I made wasn't normal for me, it was a jealous kind of noise. "Too bad you don't know." I'm not a pleasant jealous person. 

"What do you mean? What don't I know?" 

She took the hook. "About his---secret." 

"Secret?" She leaned closer to hear better. 

There went the line down her throat. I smirked. 

"Yeah, the secret about him. I thought everyone knew!" I called up my acting skills. "You don't know? Honestly?" 

She bit her lower lip and shook her head 'no'. It was time to get the fish to swallow the sinker. 

"He has kids." I lied, I knew it was going to be heck should he ever hear about this. Her jaw dropped. "About five of them." Her eyes got larger. "All by different girls." She did a wonderful impression of a big mouth bass on a plaque. 

"H-How?" 

I felt my cheeks turn slightly red. "How do you think?" 

"I-I mean who? When? Where?" 

"The who, I'm not sure. The when? A year or two ago, before he came here." I sighed like I just told her the worst news in the world. "All around the same age too." Shrugging, "Just thought you'd like to know." 

She blinked her eyes and was taking deep breaths. Sheesh, with this kind of reaction, one would think I just told her she was getting a breast reduction or something. 

When I looked up at him again, he lost his smile as I felt a smug reassurance take hold of my face. 

This was going to be too much fun.

* * *

I stared at the cook who gave me a drop-dead expression. "What's the meaning of this?" I croaked. That got the other cooks attention. 

"We're making dinner." I felt my mouth twitch with a comment. 

"Why not stay and watch the show?" Bobby-Jerk said cheerfully cracking an egg. 

"It's the guys under 26 turn to cook." Jerking a thumb towards Iceboy, "He barely fits the category." 

"T-then were is Adam and Adrian?" 

"Not here yet," Chris told me, and then turned his back on me to start up what I could only hope in a few minutes would resemble something akin to food. "Why'd you come down here?" 

"I was hungry." 

"Was?" 

"The two of you in pink and yellow aprons made my stomach queesy, but the ruffles just killed it, thanks." 

"Not like it would kill you to lose a pound or ten." 

"You die," I seethed and turned to leave, but was basically stampeded back into the kitchen when Adam came up behind me. He begged me to help them like he's never set foot in a kitchen before! 

I took up a seat on a stool near the phone and beside the fridge. It was a prime seat for the show. I had no idea what they were going to try and make, but I noticed something that spelled trouble right off. Adam took over the main dish, Chris was making the dessert and I think Adrian and Bobby were on side dish duty. If this had been for a family of four or five, it wouldn't take too long. But they had to prepare enough for a small country. 

Of course, they were going to have their own war with the pots, pans, eggs and who could forget the clichéd banana peel? 

* * *

"It hurts," he whined as I took out the tweezers from my hidden 'girl-girl' supply. Hauling him (by his good hand, I'm not that cruel) into the bathroom, he jumped up on the counter top and I rolled my eyes. Such like a little kid sometimes. He was pouting slightly and holding his glass hurt hand. 

"Boys," I muttered and took his hand in mine. Being as careful as I could, I began to pluck out the hair thin shards of brown glass. "I can't believe you guys sometimes." He tried to flinch away as a particularly nasty piece was removed from his finger. 

"I think you enjoy this," He hissed out as I retrieved yet another sliver from his palm. 

"I tried to warn you. You think with Mr. Science in the kitchen you would have known better." I smiled at him as he got a more pronounced pout. 

"Hey, I wasn't the one who threw ice into the glass pot!" He pointed out. Well duh it wasn't him, it was Chris the King of the Dense. The GLASS pot got hot, and to cool it down, he threw a handful of ice cubes in it! 

Well of course it shattered into many many pot pieces! And of COURSE the guys all held up their hands and arms to protect their faces, the result was a lot of pieces in four moaning guys. Adam said he'd take care of the other two and practically shoved me out the door with 'Jack'. Adam, I'm guessing, dragged the other two babies down the hall and to the medical lab. 

I think he knows something is up. 

But regardless, here I stood, Nurse Kookie (wouldn't my grandmother be proud---of course she would probably try to get me to wear her 'nursie' outfit) with a pair of tweezers. A smile crept on my face for an unknown reason and without really knowing why. 

"I knew it! You ARE enjoying this!" 

My head snapped up, and my eyes turned to slits. "Oh yes, I have nothing better to do than take care of a big baby." I pulled the next piece out viciously. Lucky for him, it was the last shard I could see. 

He groaned when I put his hand under water to clean out anything that might be still hanging on. After fetching some band-aids, I stood, arms crossed staring at the overgrown baby. 

"It still stings," Jack muttered under his breath. Sighing heavily, I rolled my eyes. 

"Would you rather Dr. Hank spray you with ten million different chemicals and bandage you up like a mummy?" 

"No." Good, I got through to him. "But it hurts still." He shot me that 'prepare-to-slap-me' smile. "Kiss it. Make it better?" He held out his hand to me. 

My face turned crimson. Heck, it was probably purple. "W-what! I'm not a vampire. I don't like blood!" 

He put his hand down and a tick later leaned forward. "Then kiss me instead." 

My eyes were going to pop out of my head and roll down a sink (and expose my brain as it took a shower, somehow I have this vision of a screaming brain in a shower with a shower cap and a scrubbing brush). "W-what?" 

He gave the school boy smile, hoped off the counter and walked to the door. "Dinner won't cook itself." 

"It won't get cooked by you guys either." I replied in a somewhat whisper. I felt a small smile on my lips. I guess he was really trying hard to be 'just friends' first. 

"I heard that!" He shouted from somewhere down the hall. 

After cleaning up, I went back down to the kitchen. Jack was busy cleaning up the pieces with another one of the guys, then in walked Chris and Adam. 

"We only have two more hours before everyone attempts to eat themselves or us." Adam pointed out in a slightly unnerved voice. I think he's afraid of Mr. Logan. He told me he saw the man kill a deer and then roast it's meat on a bar-b-que pit. 

"Okay, we can do this," Adrian, suddenly Mr. Enthusiastic, chirped. 

I rolled my eyes and resumed my perch on the stool. Chris and Adam kept switching the cook book pages back and forth. Sheesh, was it SUCH a huge inconvenient to pull out another stinking book? We have three shelves FULL of them. 

About half an hour later things were shoved in the oven and bowls. 

Finding myself bored, I hopped off the stool and went to my room. I had an hour and a half to kill before trying whatever muck they managed to concoct. I wouldn't be surprised if Chris accidentally made some other life form like the Powerpuff girls since he was in charge of the 'sugar and spice' stuff.

* * *

"MALES are nothing but testosterone and hormones wrapped up in flesh and tight jeans!" Julie shoved a fork full of Adam's meatloaf in her mouth and swallowed with a pained expression on her face. "And they can't bloody cook! What wanker let them in the kitchen!" 

"She has a fascination with blood. Did you ever notice that?" Daisy-Mae whispered. 

I rolled my eyes. "She has a fascination with how short she can make her life span." 

"We did the best we could," Adam defended weakly. "Sorry if it's not the best. I'm not exactly used to cooking." 

"Don't apologize to her!" Chris seethed. "She hasn't set foot in the kitchen since she got here." 

Julie glared at him through her sunglasses. 

"Kids," we all practically groaned at being called that, "let's have a nice dinner." Dr. Hank said in a cheerfully authoritative tone. The kind I think Santa Claus must have, happy but only a cookie away from kicking the elves kesters from the North to the South pole and back again. 

It took all of three minutes before Julie started to rant again. Everyone was VERY annoyed with her (I think that's why everyone just rolled their eyes at their food. I don't think the meatloaf told a bad joke or anything). 

"Do you ever shut up?" Stacey asked, clearly peeved. 

"The thought's crossed my mind," Julie replied, as full as herself as a person can be without ripping the seams from their clothing. 

"Must've been a short trip," I shot out. 

"You girls t'ink you can do better?" I would have thought it was some type of challenge if Mr. Remy hadn't looked utterly disgusted by the crunchy, yes crunchy, Stove Top in his mouth. 

"O' course we can!" Julie piped up. D-M beat me to the 'shut-up wouldja?' look. 

"Good, tomorrow. You three cook," Mr. Kurt stated, the rest agreed. 

I could have just hurt Julie, but I decided instead to make her part of the meal, though she didn't have much meat on her, sort of like a skinny, expensive horse with an attitude. 

Wonder what she would taste like on an open flame? 

* * *

Comments, Questions and compliants: 

Kittenchatter: Yar, I thought it was about time SOMETHING got settled in her life. But, hehe, I kind of left a new mystery floating around. Something my betas and roommate don't even know yet. :) Thanks for the compliments on the art! I really really want more fanart *pouts* Guess I'll just have to keep begging!  
Tinne: And this was just a disturbingly funny chapter...I think  
Eggman: Hi! Still like the reviews...  
Silvergryffin: Check my author's page for the link to Kookie's Pan. ;) fanfic won't let me post it in the story for some strange reason *shrugs*  
Cris-X: *beams* Thank you so much! *shows off shiny new badge* And Scott didn't let Kerry have cookies because they were 'fattening'. :)  
Lalene Brooks:*takes deep breath* Wow, nice LONG review ;) Hopefully I'll remember to cover everything. First, thanks for the review! It always amazes me to see people review who have just tackled this story. Many of my reviewers have been around for a long time, but the new ones are always loved! Four days? Kudos for you! That's a part a lot of people enjoy, the tackling of Scott. I was so in need of sleep or sugar when I wrote that. Heh, but what can I say, it seems to have become a classic part of this story! *blushes* I can understand the tears thing, I've cut up laughing or started to cry at certain parts, and I'm the author! -sighs- probably because Kerry's home is in my head. *goes another shade of red* Thank you for the compliments on my writing! I never know what to say when someone tells me that...*sweatdrop* Sequel? You people are slave drivers! ;) In your regards to the regards of the story: Arty will appear again. She's just too much fun to not mess with. Telepathy? *shudders* I can't imagine that girl with the power to mess with minds on the telepathic level. Her body blocks mind readers to a point, but it is two fold not letting anything out either. That's why her calls for help are ignored, because they can't really hear her unless she is basically screaming it at the top of her mental lungs. D-M's powers don't work quite in that sense, she can cure diseases and abraisions not conditions. Such as she couldn't ever correct blindness, muteness or such. O.O Arty strutting around.....eeewwww!!! Funny thought but BAD mental image! Whew I think I've pulled through this review! Please review again and make them as long as you like! Jubes: Did she shoot George? Who knows? Oh, wait, *sweatdrop* I do. And Jack? Just be patient. I plan on having this story finished by May of '04.   
C-theory: Cool! Please continue to read and review! And hopefully enjoy!  
demonicamazon: I think you might have competition for the longest review this chapter! Lalene might have beaten you! ;) I'm responding to the reviews now! *cries* It's just that I wasn't getting very many so I decided to flatter those who reviewed. *sniffles* I'm so petty. N-E-Ways. By old friend I'm going to guess you meant Donovan St-Loy? Isn't it just irronic that a girl with wings would have a problem with a flight attendent? Chris can be a 'dork' but he can also be er...a little less of a dork? -sighs- Kerry and Chris' relationship is one of love-hate but they are the closest thing to best friends. Heh, the humming bird on cocaine was a line that was used to describe something in one of my classes. I just had to use it! So use it and share it with the world! :) We know that George was the one who was pointing the gun at Zach, Kookie's biological father, when he day he was killed. The package has nothing to do with the Pirates *drools* uhm, anyway, for the non-detective in each of us, I mentioned there being 'two or so rounds' left in the gun when she first got it, in the hotel room there was only one shot left....hmmm....She opened the package because people do dumb things at important times. LIke, I dunno, pass out at their weddings or throw up in the middle of a speech. *shrugs* The next few chapters should show her with plenty of X-Men trips. Chris, while in the graveyard, was just giving the two private time. Lucky Me was started, at first, to attempt to stay with the our time but quickly got left behind. Right now, this early/mid August. In chapter 80, it's going to be early September. Thanks for the art compliments! Considering I'm an Illustration major, those types of things are always pleasant to hear/read/whatever! And I was already roped into doing a Kerry/Adrian and Kerry/Chris set of pictures because it would make all the readers happy regardless of who they were going for. Thanks for the review! Till next time (as you say)!  
Sam: ^.^ That's what I thought you meant by that review! But I wasn't going to jump to conclussions!  
Lady Hope: Yar, but will her life let her?  
Rose Cotton: Yeah, the sappy is done with for a while. Now lets get funny and somewhat romantical (not too much though).   
Kamikazee: There will be more built on the Scott/Kerry thing but not at the present date. When is there ever a moment for people in the comics to sit down and think (unless they are captured and shipped off to Mardipool. Everyone ends up there eventually).   
Water Angel: Yeah! I'm glad!!!  
CiCi: *evil smile* I never said that Kerry killed George, I never said she didn't. And as for the Chris and Julie thing? Trust me the only sparks there are the lethal kind.  
Jonquil: I don't know if they have new gravestones or if they just scratch out one date and chisel in another. It was just a funny mental picture ;)  
wolf8: I never said she did or that she didn't. Will this be clarified? You bet! Anytime soon? Err...I'm revealing Jack?  
Gryfyndor Girl: Ack! She won't turn homicidal in the mansion...no matter how sorely she is tempted.. ¬_¬ 


	79. Pointless Participant

Lucky Me Chapter 79

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry, no Q, C & C this time. Too tired. * makes swirly eyes* Am tired.....Anyway just FYI that I got a new piece of fanart! Whoohooo!! -clears throat- And I have 80 written, and am currently working on 81! This story is...er, 80 percent done. Oh yeah, and I got X-Men 150....I shall have to HURT someone at Marvel for that one! *growls* Of course I had to finally forgive them from trying to off another character and then they pull this! Grrr......OH, and before I forget, there are two authors on ff.net that have written to separate stories (in progress) with some of the Lucky Me cast appearing. It's called 'black luck' : ) G'luck ladies! Oh and have a very Merry Christmas!!!! Remember, please, to keep _Christ_ in Christmas. 

* * *

What's a better way to start off the weekend than having your behind kicked all over the Danger Room? Having it kicked in broad August daylight. The Professor was giving me and the X-people who were now in my control (scary) a break from attempting to teach the dumbest man made creation on earth to two-step (I dig my own graves). He let us go outside for recess and hunt the other team. 

Too bad for me I was the most un-experienced and within the first five minutes Storm had lashed an ice storm at me in mid-flight. Because my tactics aren't quite so sharp, I ended up screaming (loudly) and falling (fast) towards the very solid looking earth. 

That was until, "Would you stop screaming? You're giving me a headache." It was Iceman. 

"Sorry! Next time I'm falling to my death I'll be sure not to be so loud." 

"That's all I ask." 

"It's not like I needed your help, anyways," I pointed out defensively. 

"Yeah. Right. Storm iced your wings, I don't think Kookie's bounce." We reached the ground, he de-iced but didn't put me down. This I didn't notice until five seconds ticked by, I glared. 

"Put me down," I ordered. He smiled. 

Oh dandy, Ice-creature was in a goofy mood. "Say the magic words." 

I knew what he meant. It gave him some warped and mutated pleasure. Ever since I became his semi-boss, he loved to torture me like this. After trying to wiggle my way out of this situation, he laughed and I muttered something close to a curse on him. 

May Drake be sterile and all of his children after him! ----uh, wait, that doesn't make sense. 

"Say it," Bobby-jerk persisted. 

"Put me down," I spat the next two words. "_Mr. Drake_." Yes, something as easy and petty as this is what gave him a rush. He's one sick ice-puppy. 

Of course he put me down. 

Directly, as in didn't give me any warning, just dropped his arms and Kookie fell on her rump rather hard. "Was that really necessary?" 

Icecube soon became the moving ice sculpture and tore off on his little ice slide to the other part of the lawn. Gambit (who had been fighting off Bishop) back flipped next to my frosty, bruising self. 

"Any ideas?" He asked, giving me the pure 'ladies man' smile. What can I say, it was good, but I preferred Jack's. 

"Not as yet. What about you? Any plans?" 

"Blow dem up?" 

"W-what kind of plan is THAT?!" 

Gambit shrugged twirling his staff, "a plan." 

"But it's not moral or ethical or----sane." 

"Okay fine. Den we can blow dem up and send deir families our heart felt apologies dat we had to blow up their loved ones, better non?" 

I groaned. "You are no help." 

"I just a hand, you be de brains, chére." I really wish I knew how to say 'bite me' in French right about now. 

As Archangel flew past us and into the pool (ha! Serves him right!) I gulped. "Die. We can die." 

* * *

I was suppose to make dinner today? I was frozen, thawed, rinsed and cooked. Forget _making_ dinner, I was dinner! Just put some vegetables around me and I was basically a Thanksgiving turkey! If you couldn't tell by now, I felt down right horrible. 

Middle of the week (of lovely Wednesday) and I was pretty sure that Professor's little 'helpful' chats were going to numb my brain permanently. Is that what telepathy is like? Numbing people's brains? 

Having an irate Wolverine in your bedroom is not a common occurrence for me. In fact, the moment I walked into my room I had to be scraped off the ceiling. Why does he have to play the cool and confidant one in the dead dark of night?! What, is he a scruffy wanna-be Batman or something!? 

"Hey, kid." 

After relocating my tongue and stitching it back into my mouth, I effectively squeaked out a 'hi'. 

"Ya know I can smell it." 

Err....body odor? I didn't think I stunk. So sue me if I wasn't able to run to the showered yet! 

"Sorry?" 

He pushed himself off my wall, I felt like making a break for it but then had a feeling I would end up tackled and eating the flooring yet again. "Don't think about it. Shut the door unless ya want everyone hearin'. If you bolt, I go straight to Jeannie." 

I nodded and shut my door without a word. A silent minute passed by. "Can I turn on the light?" He gave a short chuckle noise. "Yeah." 

When I flicked the switch I had the strongest urge to turn it right back off again. Mr. Logan stood in the middle of the room, and on a single finger was dangling George's gun. I'm not sure, but I think I died right then and there. 

"When you got back, I thought it was from the scuffle Cyke told us about." Mr. Logan was going into that 'I won't take no crap lies' tone. "Then the scent stuck around with you for almost three weeks. That's when I realized you musta had it with you. One quick search in your room and I found it." He was in my room! What a creep! Don't these people believe in privacy? 

Fear is a very strong emotion, and the right proper one to have when facing a man who could gut you with a flick of the wrist. So I held my tongue, which had dawned its boxing gloves, in place by biting down on it. Hard. 

"Whatya doin' with a gun, kid?" Mr. Logan's eyes reminded me of a wolf's at that moment. They were narrowed and had me pinned where I stood on suddenly weak knees. 

"F-found it." That was not a lie, that was self-preservation. 

His eyes became even more narrowed. I don't think he believed me. "I could go to Bishop, ask him to tell me when it was fired last. It smells recent," he checked the bullets, "and there is still a shot left." Mr. Logan's eyes flicked to me again. "If the Professor knew you were hiding a firearm in your room, he'd roast you on a spit." 

If was still alive after my parents got a hold of me. 

"I found it," I stated again, "in Washington." 

He hiked up an eyebrow. What, did he want more information? No deal. I was not going to be going into any sort of confession now. 

"When was it fired?" 

My jaw almost buckled shut. Mr. Logan and I held a steady look at each other. I was the weaker one, I'm not stupid enough to think otherwise. But it was _my_ secret and no one was entitled to it without my permission. Bullying me wouldn't work anymore. 

Unless he did the whole claws routine, well, then that became a matter of intelligence. I was smart enough to tell him anything in order to not get hurt. 

Mr. Logan finally spoke up. "If I ever hear, see, or smell this on you...if I smell it's been fired..." I swallowed hard. I knew a threat or a warning when I heard one. He flipped the gun in all directions, studying it, before picking up the box I had hid it in and laying back in. 

I moved, with jerky movements since my knees still had this urge to hit the floor, out of his way. Before leaving, he kindly reminded me that it was the girls' night to make diner. 

As soon as my door shut, my knees got their wish as I hit the floor with a thud. One hand clasped above my heart, my breathing shaky and deep. I didn't think anyone would find out. 

For the first time since my decision, I felt guilty. 

* * *

We had two hours to prepare dinner. We had no idea what we were making. D-M suggested omelet and Julie suggested a strike. We settled on something not so hard. Something we could defrost. 

CLASH.

I cringed. "That sounded expensive." Turning, Julie was silently cursing under her breath, and attempting to pick up the pieces of glass sprinkled over the floor. Okay, so now we were even with the boys in breaking things. They had a pot, we had, I think, a wine glass. 

What was Julie doing with a WINE glass? 

"Need help?" I asked, half-heartedly because I knew she'd say no. 

"Bugger off." 

Or she would say that. 

"You're cut!" D-M went to the other girl's side and began to examine the slightly bleeding fingertips. Julie must have no stomach with blood, her right hand was shaking almost to the point I expected it to fly off and crash into the wall or something . 

I left them to their own devices and started to stir the spaghetti. Originally we were going to just defrost several things and make them all so everyone would be happy (but I had planned secretly to burn everything so they didn't want us to do this everyday). After thirty minutes, we took a break from watching the stuff defrost and when we got back into the kitchen all the frozen food was encased in ice. 

On top was a lovely little note: 'No cheating girls. --Bobby'. 

We had planned his demise as we cooked. It was one way to pass the time. 

"I'm going to go get something from my room," D-M announced, her normal perky self coming back. Still didn't mean I wouldn't have jumped at the slightest touch from that girl. Not that I'm holding a grudge (much of one) but my ears still flinch at the ear infection she stabbed me with. Yes, she had the collar on. 

Julie and I looked at each other then quickly turned away from each other. Whatever Daisy was after in her room must have been putting up a good fight since five minutes slipped by without her return. I heard more clanking, thankfully, it was only a plate making a shaky stop on the counter top. 

"Butterfingers." 

She shot me the nastiest look. Her right hand's fingers were twitching and jerking. That wasn't normal. I stopped stirring, "Wot are you looking at?" She snapped, turning her back to me. 

"What's wrong with your hand?" 

"Nothing. Sod off." 

Oh this was going to get far. Lucky for her, D-M made her appearance two seconds later. It took another half an hour for us to fix everything. It didn't look too bad. It smelt better than it looked so it passed our inspection. 

Setting the table had been interesting. I assigned Julie to that and D-M went to protest but the ever-proud Julie refused to not do it. I watched her like a cat did a mouse. She would shake some, but nothing else broke. Maybe she was weak from hunger? The girl was a stick with flesh after all. 

Sitting down to dinner, Adam complimented us, refusing to acknowledge Julie. The others were mildly pleased but I didn't care. The nightmare was over, Julie's little accidents were interesting, Mr. Logan hadn't said anything about my new 'toy', and D-M wasn't singing that dumb Lambchop song. Life was good, which meant I had to find something to screw it up. 

"Why didn't you just heal her?" I prodded at length when everyone began to chat. D-M pushed her noodles around. She was avoiding the answer. "Well?" 

"Because I can't. Not even small cuts. Not with this." She tapped the new version of her collar, which were two slender bracelets. 

I sighed, seemed as if I'd be getting no long drawn out answers today. 

* * *

"Cruel inhuman beasts with no compassion for a girl in school." Yes, I was talking about the X-Men. I would call them something else, something more creative and R rated, but my brain had hit the snooze button on the sarcasm. Four in the morning and my hiney was dragged out of bed and down to the hanger again. 

Mr. Logan came pounding on my door to get me up. It worked. I got dressed in my uniform and crawled back into bed. That's when Beast showed up to try and extract me from my nice warm bed. Try as he might it was finally Gambit who slung me over his shoulder and escorted me down (not that I was complaining about the view). 

After making it to the plane, I was unceremoniously DUMPED in a seat next to a yawning Rogue. At least I wasn't the only one effected by this horrible hour. 

"We've located another fort." Wonderful, great. Lets ask them to send us a brochure. "Hopefully we'll make it there before they are all slaughtered as well." My attention snapped. Huh? Oh...right...I shuddered. The last fort we had gone to had been massacred by the people who later knocked me and Mr. Jean-Paul into a state of black abyss. Not that we shared the abyss. The only thing I think we share is an uneasiness around each other. 

"When we get there, I want us to pair off and search thoroughly through their computer files and the like." Thank goodness the little 'Kookie in charge to the X-Men thing' was only Danger Room practice. If I was forced to do it on the field---Professor would have a lot of people to replace! Cyclops went on talking about who was who, and when it got to Blight I was VERY alert. 

"Blight, you and Iceman take the northern part of the complex." I opened my mouth to say something but it was Mr. Warren who jumped in for me. 

"Scott, if those two are paired up they'll get into a screaming match." 

Bobby-Jerk looked offended. "Not a _screaming_ match. Just a smart mouth one." He turned to me with a smug expression. "G rated, of course, for the kid." 

I guess my brain wanted to prove to Dad what a HORRIBLE idea this was. "Would you stop calling me that!" 

"Why? Logan calls you it all the time." 

"Yes, well at least he probably doesn't have to make a concentrated effort not to wet the bed!" Don't ask me where it came from, but it was there and the way everyone started to chuckle, laugh and do other things which showed humor it was going to stay. 

"How would you know anything about his bed there, Kookie?" 

"I-I wouldn't! But just given his personality--" 

Bobby-Jerk gave me a sweater-wearing, break-out-the-snow-shovels, cold look of indifference. I must've really upset him. 

"Fine, we can avoid this on the field. Bishop, you and Blight are together. Iceman and Rogue..." 

Again, I felt guilty over something that was almost deserved. Almost, but not quite. 

After we landed and had to hear everything again about how to do stuff and what to look for the pairs set off in their intended directions. It took ten minutes, but Bishop finally spoke to me. 

"Blight. Focus." I turned around in flight to tip my head at the man. "You're not thinking about the mission." I know I know, if you don't pay attention you end up shot up like Swiss cheese but I felt bad. It was really stupid for me to feel like a complete jerk for fighting with Bobby-Jerk, but I still did. I felt bad about insulting him and his bladder control (which I do not know anything about) but I'm still calling him a 'jerk' in my mind. Yeah, I make sense. 

WAMP. 

Tree. Mean solid tree. "Ow." 

"Point taken?" Bishop asked, reaching out a hand to help me to my feet. 

"Point taken," and made into a dull thud which will probably come to a climax with a nasty headache. "Ow." Walking behind him in a semi-straight line, I tripped over that same dumb tree's roots. I was about to make personal contact with the ground when I felt a very cold arm wrap around my waist and steady me back on my feet. 

"You've got the stealth of an elephant," Iceman noted, "and the weight of one." 

I snapped, "Thanks." 

He shrugged and de-iced. "Cyclops thought you two might need help." 

Bishop looked insulted by such a thought. Big man need help? Preposterous! He could blow up Kentucky on Saturday and still teach X-Men Sunday school the following morning! Isn't that scary? And, no, we do not have Sunday School of the X. I would sleep in every time if we did. 

While the two men walked ahead, I turned towards the tree and gave it my best snotty glare. "I hope you are cut down and made into toilet paper." 

"Blight, put a wind under those wings," Ice-boy instructed and I followed them inside. 

"Must've been a trick door," Bishop pointed out as we entered. The door was fairly hard to see. In fact, I don't doubt we would have walked right past it if the person who used it last hadn't left it opened. And thankfully there wasn't a soul around (dead or alive) they must have booked it once they realized the big bad boys (and girls) of the Xavier had decided to be nosey. 

We walked along the under belly of the place in complete silence. Bishop, who was use to this type of creep-you-out, Die-Hard buildings, was up in front. Bobby-Jerk was second and I padded behind them, trying to absorb the things I saw and rubbing the sore spot on my head. 

That tree had a very nasty right hook. 

'Bishop, come in,' Cyclops' voice crackled through our ear pieces. 'Did you find anything or anyone?' "Nothing," He replied in a stiff voice. A big, steaming heap of nothing served over easy on bacon and toast. Bad idea, Kookie. Food is what I want and can't have. Not unless they have a vending machine...but I doubt Cyclops would like me to take a quick snack. It wouldn't be professional. 

Like wearing your yellow spandex underwear out side tight blue long johns is professional. 

At least that is what he used to wear. All of a sudden the uniforms were getting revamped to look like the Matrix. Complete with leather like jackets that always seemed to have this mysterious wind blowing through it. I'm talking about their uniforms, sheesh, this IS boring! 

"This looks promising." Bishop stopped outside a tightly sealed door. It was your typical ominous black door with the code key combination thingy on the side. "Stand back." 

Where? It was a long hallway with no nooks or crannies or even air vents! I started to panic as the big man in front of me began to glow a pinkish color. Oh man! He was going to blast the dumb door and I was going to end up with metal in my wings (not a pleasant experience). 

The same cold arm which saved me from kissing the leaves earlier was around my waist again, pulling me away. Just as the pink began to go red, Iceman threw up an ice shield in front of us. I yelped, regardless of protected or not, as the very loud and metal blasting BOOM came from the other side of the sturdy ice shield. 

It wasn't until Bishop gave the 'all clear' that I could focus on just how close I was to Iceman. My face had been buried in the curve of his neck, one hand clutching his jacket the other one was protecting my face instinctively. He stood stock still, one hand around my waist the other straightforward, probably trying to stabilize the wall. 

I jumped away like Iceboy just became Fireman. "Thanks." 

"It's part of the job," He shrugged. "Can you knock this thing down?" Giving it all I had, my strength didn't fail me (if it did I could always try to claw my way through). With an equally loud CLASH, the wall went bye-bye. 

After a little ice skating practice to get INTO the room, we met up with Bishop who was busing himself by typing a million keys per second. Not that fast, but he was fast. "Cyclops, I found their main database. From what I can detect, this is only a second-rate base. Some type of training base." 

'Download what you can and meet back up at the Blackbird.' 

I'm so glad I could be of service. Sheesh, why couldn't I just stay in bed again? 

This was so pointless. 


	80. French Freedom?

Lucky Me

Chapter 80

* * *

The way to start off a September is certainly not with Major-Pain-in-the-Behind-Poovey giving a test, forgetting both sack lunch and lunch money or finding yourself on a plane bound for a different country. 

"What person in their right mind would go to _Genosha_?" It was something between a mutant chopping block and safe haven. I think it depended on the laundry fabric the people in charge used that week. I didn't know much about the country accept no one in their wrong, demented; self-hating minds ever went to Genosha. Just thinking of that place gave me the creeps. 

Even more so than Wolverine did in my bedroom when he found the gun. 

Bobby-Jerk chimed in. "We would!" 

"That's why I asked 'what person in their _right_ mind would go'." 

"Just remember you're one of us." That was the last thing from mind settling. Not to mention it sounded like Iceman just put a curse on the whole crew. 

Phoenix, Cyclops, Northstar, pointless little me, Iceman, Wolverine, Flex (I don't know what that boy was doing here) and Bishop. Storm had taken the other half to go do something in Spain or whatever. Wasn't me, didn't care. 

"We're not going to Genosha, Blight." Yeah, my mistake we were going to a base that was a fraction of a hair away from its border. Big difference there. 

I sat, arms crossed, sulking about my bad fortune. The only reason we were going to all these places (the three different bases) was because there was a rumor that Cable found interesting. Something about a new program being put into place dealing with mutant genetic butchering or something. I wonder why these people never think of something more creative than that? 

Anyway, more and more mutants keep disappearing. All have the same, almost parasite, abilities. This is what got interesting or so the X people in charge thought. And before anyone thinks that they are mutant lingo dumb, a parasite is someone like Rogue. Their powers basically are leeched off of other mutants' powers. Sounds like a riot right? 

Landing a mile or so away from the complex, Cyclops started to bark off his commands. "...Blight and Iceman, I want you two to work together." My eyebrow went straight up. "And Flex, I want you to baby-sit these two." My eyebrow came crashing back down in a glare at Dad. The nerve of him, like I'm the one who needs a baby-sitter! 

Adrian looked at me, then to Bobby, who had the same speechless expression. "Sure." 

After some brief explaining, we were sent on our way. Phoenix said she couldn't detect anybody's presence but it didn't mean that they weren't there. 

Great, now we are going to fight ghosts or something? 

We got the backdoor (if that's what you want to call it) and it was closest to where the Blackbird landed. The other paired off people scampered away into the woods like deer. I couldn't stop thinking that they just made a circle back to the plane, were building a fire and going to make s'mores while we three did all the work. 

Iceman, the senior as Scott so kindly reminded us, lead the way. When it came to the door, he hesitated. I don't know what the big deal was, it was already slightly opened anyway. 

Venturing inside, it seemed like a nice, clean, well-lit hallway. Well, except for the blood. 

Oh, and the bodies the blood had come from. 

My stomach jumped out of my body and ran back to the plane. 

"Blight?" Flex questioned as I stepped back in disgusted horror and because the smell of it was too familiar. "Something wrong?" Yeah, the dead soldier guy was wearing two different colored socks and me being such a fashion buff can not stand that horrible sight. 

Something wrong, sheesh, idiot. 

I jumped forward, closer to Iceman and shook my head 'no' (while rolling my eyes). Our leader gave me a steady look and I weakly smiled and nudged him forward. 

"Cyclops, all the soldiers, they're dead." Iceman went to several of the guys, checking their pulses before concluding his findings to the big boss man. 

"Same here." Cyclops. 

"Affirmative." Bishop. 

"Butchered." Wolverine. 

All four points of the fort, all the occupants dead? Again? Who were these people that seemed to be in front of us at all time? Why did they kill all these guys? What was the POINT? 

"Come on you two." We walked a bit further. What we were looking for was any sort of computer terminal. What we found was that the hallway went straight but also had the option of left or right. Iceman split us up and each went a different direction. 

I got the right turn. My arm itched suddenly (probably my nerves) and silently thanked Iceman for noticing my displeasure at seeing so many poor people lying dead in very uncomfortable positions. It was a massacre, again. Their guns were shredded and broken a few feet away from almost each and every body. 

"Find anything, Blight?" Bobby's voice crackled over the comm. link. 

"Just more Dracula victims." Bad time for bad jokes, but I was uneasy. This was the SECOND time they drug me to a building that resembled a graveyard rather than a place of secret military work. 

There wasn't even a sound echoing off the walls. Nothing but dead silence. That is not a joke. 

I came to another curve in the hallway and obediently followed it. Yes, there were doors but there was no way little baby Kerry was going to stick her big head in just to have it possibly whacked off. I like myself a little too much to be that painfully stupid. 

The silence didn't last too much longer as I screamed bloody murder and nearly flew into the roof. 

"Calm down, Kerry!" Iceman, who had only started to ask a question, causing me to have a heart attack. 

I calmed down enough (after a minute of holding the wall for balance while trying to get my heart under control) I came back to reality. Glancing over at the older guy, I frowned and smacked his arm. "Don't DO that!" 

"I didn't know you were going to be so jumpy!" He defended. 

"Next time make a noise or something before appearing out of nowhere." Sounded reasonable to me. 

"First off, I didn't appear out of nowhere, I came from the hall right 

here." Oops, I didn't even notice the new opening. Must have been the hall he choose. Well DUH it was the corridor he chose! Sheesh. "And secondly, if I M_had_ made a noise you probably would have attacked me." 

He did have a point. Ah! I don't like it when guys are right! "Flex? Are you there?" Static answered. The creepy feeling came back and seemed to spread to Iceman. "Flex?" 

One, two... "Yeah, sorry." That dumb jerk! He shouldn't worry us like that! "Nothing here." 

"We found the main frame, it's pretty smashed up." Cyclops was always the lucky one. This is sarcasm, adjust to its temperature. "Bishop rendezvous with us..." and the coordinates were given as were the instructions for us to keep looking for any living body. 

Bobby started to walk in the direction I had been going before he scared me half to death (I swear I've knocked off thirty years from my life by wearing this 'x'). I followed him like a puppy down the corridor, he stopped at each and every door to look for people. I guess he's use to this. 

Or a complete idiot. 

"Blight, check the right side of the hall, I'll take the left." He's used to this; I'm the idiot for being here! I did as told though. I would open the door an inch, peek in and then go to the next one. It wasn't until the third door that Iceman, sounding rather frustratingly amused, asked what I was doing. 

"Checking the rooms." 

"You have to go _in_ to the rooms to check them." 

I gave a frightened stare to the door in front of me. It was opened slightly and I started to shake my head. "What if that maniac that DID this is lurking around in one of these rooms? I don't want to end up dead!" 

"You won't. Whoever did this is long gone." He picked up one of the dead scientist's hands and dropped it. "Rigamortis has already started to set in and if there is anyone alive, we need to find them." 

I still wasn't convinced (but I had enough guilt now placed on me) but he also assured that my training would probably override my fear and he reassured me a thousand times that he would be a breath away. So, taking a deep swallow of air, I slid into the room, eyes trying to focus on the darkness. 

Realizing this wasn't going to get anything productive done, I reached blindly around the door frame and finally was able to flick the light on. 

My scream carried through the halls. Then I think I ran and Iceman showed up and I was shaking in his arms and whimpering like a mutilated puppy. 

"Kerry, Kerry! what's wrong?" Shaking beyond the point of fear and surprise, I looked up at him then pointed to the door I had just ran back through. He left me for a moment, went to the room and since he left it so quickly I'm guessing he didn't like what was in there anymore than I did. "Looks like they got creative." There was no humor in his voice as he securely shut the door behind him. 

Lifeless blue eyes. R-Red everywhere! I felt my stomach twist with green butterflies, even THEY were sick and shaken. He had been hanging from the ceiling. Gutted like a FISH! What kind of monster--!? 

"It's all right, Kerry." I didn't even realize Bobby had me in another embrace until he spoke. Noticing he was there, I kind of attached myself to him and kept my head down, buried in his shirt. He kept his head down, close to my ear and kept repeating about how he told Scott it was a bad idea to bring me along. 

Did they know it was going to be like this? 

I don't know how long passed, but the communication links wouldn't give it a rest. Finally, I pulled away and Iceman looked so worried and concerned that I found my feet interesting. "Go ahead," he said, keeping one hand around my shoulders. 

"We were able to tap into their computer banks. There should be a containment where you are or very close nearby." 

"Maybe that's where Flex disappeared to." Bobby sighed, "We'll go check it out." He let his hand slide down my arm and grabbed my hand as he started off towards the left. I numbly let him lead me. I can't understand why people do this! I can't understand why we have to do this! I thought we were suppose to PREVENT things like this from happening! Not stumble upon them! 

It was the lost leading the blind as I kept my head down and my free hand curled up next to my chest, fingering my necklace through my uniform. The further we got from that----room, the more alive I felt. A thought came to the front of my mind unbidden, what if a mutant like GraveWorm was real? Talk about freak out. All these poor people dead and someone who has the power to animate the dead---see where I'm going with this freak trip? 

Easy for him to say, but since he was making an effort to lighten the atmosphere, I suppose I should as well. "What do you think they would say at school if they could see us now?" 

"I think they'd probably say something like, '_Man, that guy is lucky, holding hands with that girl._'" 

"Hm, and here I thought you were going to say something like '_Man, that GIRL is lucky to be holding hands with her_ TEACHER. '" 

"I _know_ they'd say that, you only asked me what I _thought_ they'd say." Even half turned away; I saw the smile edge on his mouth. 

"You're a creep, you realize." Yes, we were playing. I wasn't squeezing his hand to the point of breaking, so it was teasing. 

"Yeah, but I'm a cute and loveable creep. Why do you think they've kept me around for so long?" 

"To keep their drinks cold during the summer?" 

Iceman's smile became more defined. "Any icing I do over the summer usually ends up down someone's pants, not their cup." 

This I don't doubt. My smile was sincere, I was glad he was trying to take my mind off of this. These halls all looked the same, and there weren't cute and helpful signs to guide us. Lucky for us there was only one way to go, and that was straight. Or through a door, but Bobby refused to go into any more (more like I wouldn't let go of his hand and my feet became firmly planted when he even moved remotely CLOSE to another door). 

Eventually we got to a turn, and there was a surprise. "Adrian!" My brain kicked into action as I let go of Bobby's hand and ran to my fallen, bleeding teammate. I pushed him lightly on the shoulder to roll him over, he groaned. Good, he was at least alive. 

What happened?" Yeah, I know. I sound a lot like Cyclops by not asking if he was okay first, but like I said Adrian was alive and that was good enough for me at this moment. "Who did this?" 

"White---" Oh-kay. Lot of help there. I started to really panic when Adrian's head lolled back. Bobby pried me off Flex and said, after a brief examination, that he just passed out . There was blood coming from the poor boy's neck which was smeared and several small holes in his uniform around the chest area. 

Every one must have been dead except the killer and here we were trying to find it! 

After getting most of the bleeding to stop by applying pressure and ripped off bits of uniform (Iceman's, not mine, since if I were to rip something off of mine there'd be nothing left), we contacted the others with an update. They said they were going to need some time and to be careful. 

Picking up the limp boy and throwing him over his shoulder, Iceman started north. Confused, I asked why. He shrugged and said he was following Adrian's blood trail. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. "What? We're still going to look for this guy after he did _this_?" I motioned to the empty halls. There were signs that behind some of the doors bodies lay bleeding since the smears looked like a body was dragged from one point to another. 

"We have to. Do you really want something that is capable of this wandering around free on the outside?" Isn't it already? I sighed/moaned and caught up with him. It was quiet in here again. I felt nervousness fling his arm around me as fear attempted to French kiss me. Man, why didn't I just-- "Sing." 

"Huh?" Where'd that come from? 

"If you're nervous, sing," Iceman reiterated. "It might help calm you down." 

"And lead the killer right to us." I sighed. if the person who attacked Adrian was going to come and get us they already would have. Or so my freaked out mind thinks. "Besides I don't exactly have a voice that anyone wants to hear." 

In fact my sister is the singerish one. Heavy on the ish. Darcy once caught me singing in my room and asked what happened to the money she gave me for singing lessons. I ended up chasing her outside and turning the hose on her. 

"Come on, you start and if I know the song, I'll---hum." 

"How come you get to hum and I have to sing?" He was getting to that irritating level again. Adrian moaned from his position on Iceman's shoulders. Poor guy, did he really need me to give him a headache on top of the beating he'd received? 

"If you don't want to that's fine. I'll just---tell jokes." 

"I'll sing! I'll sing!" I went over songs in my head that I knew, but I had to pick one that he knew and would be willing to sing as well. I just randomly started to sing one of the songs, something about heaven and wings on shoes or something. Iceman knew it too, so that was all that mattered. 

After two more minutes of fudging the lyrics on my part, we passed what looked like the place we all split up at. And then Iceman disappeared. 

One moment he was in front of me and then a flash of white and then a loud crack and suddenly Iceman and Flex were gone. 

"Iceman!" I ran to were the corridors met. 

I should have stayed in bed. 

Adrian lay crumpled on the floor at Bobby's feet. Iceman had a visitor. I saw its back as it perched on his chest. My mind froze, my body malfunctioned and refuse to obey. The girl, I could now tell because she slightly turned to pick up Iceman's hand, who only moaned, didn't seem to notice I was there. In fascinating horror I watched as the bleach white girl with odd colored hair drew a single nail down Bobby's palm, opening a nasty gash in it. As if that wasn't disturbing enough, the girl brought the bleeding hand to her mouth and drew her tongue along the inside of the cut. Very very slowly. 

Disgusted was not the word for it. 

But, like Iceman said it would, my training took over my body. I was not about to let two guys sit here and be sucked on by this white leech. So what did I do? Punch? No. Kick? Not quite. Call for help? Wouldn't that be smart. Nope, I drew all the attention to me. 

"Get off of him!" I screamed. The creature turned sharply. She growled (like Wolverine) and lunged. I didn't have any time to react. Her momentum sent us both flying several feet back and landing with a crack from my wing or spine, I'm not too sure which. I kicked and tried to get the beast off of me, her legs securely locked my own down and her hands had mine pinned. 

If you think I was safe because her limbs were occupied, think again. She still had fangs. Fangs that were coated with red. 

"Qui vous êtes?" Oh great, a killer who doesn't even know English! She then sniffed me. Yes, SNIFFED me. Like got right up in my face and took a good whiff. I felt like a stone, unable to move or to stop her from doing anything. 

"W-what do you want?" The she-creature rose up to look down at me. Blazing golden eyes. Not even pupils, just bright shinning eyes. This is so creepy! 

Narrowing those eyes. "Freedom," she hissed. Oh good, she's speaking English! Great I can understand what she says before she kills me. 

"Get offa of me and go find it." My voice was raspy from fear. What did you expect if you saw an X-Man and a team member go flying away from you because of a single femme fatale? She growled. 

In my past experiences anything with claws and fangs, growling, means pain. Pain and some blacking out and bleeding. 

Mostly pain. 

Still, growling she grabbed my face, her five razor sharp claws digging into five different parts of my flesh. 

For once in my life, I wasn't a moron. Or alone fighting demons. 

I whacked her with my now free hand and then she went flying off of me curtsey of a huge ice block from the back. 

Able to flip on to my stomach in time to see the great white beast recover but then the ice wall stopped her. Iceman must've woken up or this is just a glitch in reality. 

"Are you okay, Kerry?" I was still watching the dancing shadow (not literally dancing, but moving) from the other side. The beast girl was still there somewhere. "KERRY!" 

Craning my neck back around, I saw that Adrian must've woken up too, leaning on Bobby. Bobby was leaning on him. Clambering unsurely to my feet, they tittered together and pitched forward. Adrian recovered, Bobby didn't and his hurt hand is how he caught himself. 

Hissing in pain, the man drew back his hand and cradled it against his stomach. Flex's eyes were fluttering open and close. He certainly wasn't going to help Bobby. 

Leaning down, I pried his hand away from his stomach. His eyes flinching as I gently uncurled his fingers. "What the he---what did she do?" Iceman asked, looking at his oozing palm. 

"She clawed your hand open and drank some of your blood." 

face twisted in disgust and Flex made a gagging sound. When I asked Iceman for his shirt, of course he once again became Bobby-Jerk. I rolled my eyes at his 'this isn't the time to get your kicks, kid'. I threatened to find the cafeteria in here and stuff salt in the wound, he was willing to loan me his shirt for a bit. I dressed his wound (blood makes my blood go 'eeewwww') with his sleeve, and let him put the rest back on. 

After making sure he knew I thought he was a pervert, I helped Adrian up who gave me a lopsided smile of thanks. 

When we made it to the others, they were ready to head out. That was until they saw us. Me with pinpricks of blood, Bobby-Jerks' bleeding and dressed hand, and Adrian's abused bleeding neck. 

"What the hell happened to you?" Wolverine asked as the others started to buzz around the boys. 

"Which one of us?" Bobby-Jerk shot back with at dead pan expression. It was a legitimate question if you ask me. 

After we were once again heading back to the place where most mutants were safe most of the time, we were pumped for information. Once we handed over our fractured story, Cyclops told us of what they found. 

Apparently that place was not to train a horde of mutants, but a single mutant with only one objective. What that objective was, they didn't know. It must have irritated Mr. Bishop because he went to polishing his gun like it had mouthed back. 

Half way back, a message was picked up from the mansion. 

"Cyclops?" It was Dr. Hank. "We have a small problem." 

"We can add it to the list." Bobby-Jerk muttered. 

After getting a stern look from Dad, "go ahead Hank." 

The living blue teddy bear cleared his throat. "Is Blight listening? This concerns her as well." My attention, instead of playing hopscotch with my mind, stood alert as it eyed the console Dr. Hank's voice was coming through. Given the go ahead once again, Dr. Hank put the fear of loss in me once again. "We've just taken Daisy to the emergency room," silly girl probably burned herself with the curling iron. "She's been admitted into the Intensive Care Unit," ohkay, she tried to use the curling iron while in the shower? "They don't know if she'll make the night." ...oh God. 


	81. Wilting Wheelchairs

Lucky Me

Chapter 81

* * *

We must have seemed like the Maniacal Brady Bunch as a herd of us rushed into the Salem Center Community Hospital. 

Dad and Jean drove me and kept telling me not to worry too much. 

I only chewed on my hair to the point I accidentally chewed some off. 

Daisy was sick, so sick that Dr. Hank had to hand her over to specialists. Professor wasn't sure what was wrong with her when they brought her to the hospital, but it was quickly being revealed. Thankfully, all that legal jargon was null because the Bloome's had signed Professor as an acting guardian in their place. 

When we got to the hospital, Adam, Julie, Chris and Dr. Hank were already there. So far the diagnosis was too horrible to believe. 

She had several types of cancer, lacerations, bruises and even sinus infections. 

Dr. Hank and Adam had come up with a theory about how she came to be this horribly sick. 

Without her powers (thanks to the collar) all the illnesses and other injuries Daisy had healed weren't put in a box. This 'box' was only created by her mutant abilities being active. Since her powers had been turned off, all the things the 'box' contained spilled out and attacked her. 

Dr. Hank kept repeating that they couldn't have known, that they thought everything they were doing was for her benefit. Professor agreed with him, saying they believed her recent and frequent illnesses were strange, but Daisy failed to mention any other type of problem or pain. 

She was standing up to the possibility of dying to save her pride?! 

Bobby-Jerk and Adrian both were shipped off to the emergency room to be stitched up and checked out since Dr. Hank was in no mood to leave his apprentice. I couldn't blame him. They kept trying to tell Adrian and me that we had school in the morning. Our resolve was firm. We weren't going anywhere. Julie was suspended, again, and didn't have to worry about it either way. Bobby-Jerk called into the school to say he had been in an accident and wouldn't be able to come in for the next few days. 

After a few more hours, around midnight, the crowd had thinned. Dad said he was going to go back to the mansion to pick up a few things. A lot of the others went back to the mansion; somehow they were strangely satisfied going back because they knew they couldn't do anything for her here. What could they honestly do for her at the mansion either? 

Jean, Dr. Hank, and Bobby-Jerk stayed behind. Of course, Chris, Adam, Adrian, Julie and I were stuffed in the waiting room as well. Adam was highly upset, blaming himself and kicking himself with every turn of his word. 

"I-I should have known!" I was having flashbacks to the whole Trish Tilby incident. It wasn't HIS fault, but would that thickheaded genius listen to me? Nope. He wanted to feel bad because he thought it was the only proper way to feel in this dilemma. 

Chris was silently brooding again. Despite his annoying fascination with me, I still think he harbors some emotions for Daisy. He was sitting next to the window, flicking off chips of paint. 

Adrian, after getting all patched up, sat in front of me twiddling his fingers. Bobby-Jerk sat next to him, head lulled back and his abused hand cradled in his lap. 

Dr. Hank didn't help the nervousness to ebb because of his pacing. Jean addressed him about it, and the man (with image inducer tried to stop, but got up two seconds later and resumed). Me? I was tired and sore. I was lying down on a bench and because I was in a vulnerable state I had Scott's jacket rolled up in a ball under my head, under the jacket was Jean's lap. Jean was combing my hair with her fingers slowly. 

Yes, I was acting like a frightened girl. A frightened little girl, and at this moment I was. I had the high risk of losing a teammate and friend. I wanted a comforting presence to be around, Jean took the role of mother and even did something I remember Heather doing when I was younger. Whenever I wasn't feeling well, Heather would run her fingers through my hair or rub my back until I feel asleep with my head on her lap. 

When the nurse came to give a reluctant update, they said they were administering Daisy some antibiotics and other various help drugs. Dr. Hank, once the nurse left, said that most likely without the collar/bracelets on, Daisy's powers were trying to 'box' the ailments in again. 

But he added he didn't want to fill us with too much hope because he seriously doubted her mutant abilities would be able to correct and contain several months worth of damage. When their stomachs were finally louder than Bobby-Jerk's snore, every one but Jean and me left to hunt for food. Yes, they woke up Bobby-Jerk out of the sheer niceness of their heart. Probably going to make him pay actually. 

When they had all gone, I curled into a tighter ball on the cushioned seat. Jean's attention to my hair increased, she even started to hum. The others (thank a higher source) stayed away. Why was this good? Because my eyes were starting to tear up again. 

"Kerry," Jean spoke softly as if talking to a frightened kitten. "It's not your fault." 

I tightened. It wasn't like I was thinking it was my fault. I was just worried. "I know." My voice came out wet because of the tears. 

She ran her nails slowly through my hair in a certain spot. It was putting me to sleep. If I was asleep at least I wouldn't have to worry about D-M, but when if I went to sleep and I missed it in case she---she---- 

"You did the right thing that night." I stifled a cry. "She didn't want to hurt, Trish, no matter what she believed." 

"H-How did you know about that?" 

"Her thoughts." I heard a smile in her voice. "She was so proud of you then, even though she didn't know what it was she felt. Daisy was happy." 

"So happy she'd allow herself to die without telling anyone?" Jean said my name again, drawing it out. Using her fingertips to turn my head enough so our eyes met, she smiled at me. Using the back of her hand she wiped away some of the tears who made an encore performance on my face. I felt nothing but a sad happiness at seeing the concern in her green eyes. If ever I wanted to, I could always say I had gotten my eye color from her side of the family. If I ever wanted to. 

"Try to get some sleep." Nodding, I flipped back to the direction of the door. Jean resumed running her fingers through the length of my hair. 

She started to hum, which turned to words. Her words turned to blackness. The blackness turned into a vacation from the worry and blame. A vacation I dearly needed. Even in my darkness of sleep I could still hear her. 

Like a real mom singing a crying baby to sleep. 

I smiled a bit at that thought when I went to the darkness. 

"...smile, what's the use of crying, you'll find that life is still worthwhile..." 

* * *

Three days later, things hadn't improved much. I was getting a bit too accustomed to sleeping on Jean's lap who always accompanied me when I spent the night in the hospital. I had lost three Grandparents in hospitals and two of them I never got to say good-bye to, if that was the case with D-M I would be there come hell or low grades from school. 

Another horrible trait I had picked up was sleeping from the time I got there (around four thirty in the afternoon) till early morning. 

This time, when I finally decided to rejoin the world of the waking, I found the others in the waiting room. And all of them were knocked out cold. Not like Adrian and Bobby-Jerk were knocked out earlier in the week, but in a deep snoring type of out. And I DO mean SNORE. 

"Feeling better?" Jean asked as I pushed myself up to a sitting position. I checked the clock, yipes! Midnight? "The doctor came in while you were asleep. He says Daisy is improving, but still in critical condition, the next few days should be able to tell how bad it will end up being." 

I was feeling better, but now I'm back to scum of the earth type feeling. 

"Here," she pushed money into my hand. I stared at the few dollars and then to the stretching red head. Nothing was clicking. "You're probably hungry, I'm sure there are some vending machines sitting around this hospital somewhere." 

Oh! Okay, that made sense. I didn't have a CLUE what she was up to. Finding a nurse who knew where to find my desired location, I went to find my food. It was a floor down and to the left, third door "couldn't miss". Right. I shouldn't have missed it, but somehow I did. I zigged when I should have made a U-turn and passed Go. 

Standing at the vending machines, I couldn't help but give my image inducer reflection a sad smile. If Scott only knew about the many, many bad things I was about to indulge in. For some reason, I saw a package of Jell-O in the refrigerated machine and felt tears start to well up again. 

Oh great, now if anyone was to come in they'd think I was crying over the amount of calories in a Reese's Peanut Butter cup or something just as tacky. That horrible 'it's-all-my-fault' feeling was gnawing at my control by the hunk fulls. Adam thinks it's his fault but come on. I'm the leader. I'm her friend. I'm the one who should have known. I should have been someone she was able to confide in. I should have noticed how sick she was. I should have...! 

"Kookie?" My attention and pride snapped back so hard to the present it should have sent me flying into the wall. 

I plastered a smile on my face. "Adrian." 

He looked around the room, like the she-albino beast had followed us and was going to come leaping out of the wall or something. Cautiously he approached me, I wasn't going to bite. I was hungry, but I wasn't willing to hurt him to eat. Use him as a battering ram to break the glass on the vending machine windows, maybe, but not eat him. 

I kept my back to him, not wanting the tears or red puffiness to show too much. 

By the reflection, I saw hurt cross his face. "Come 'ere, stubborn girl." He didn't give me any choice but to be forced to cry on his shoulder. It wasn't like I needed him, did I? Nope, not me. I was a single person crier. But this was all too familiar, me ending up weeping openly like a baby. 

"We're all scared too." He murmured in my hair as he hugged me tighter to his very warm body. I didn't realize how cold I was until now. Time passed. It wasn't until I heard a throat being cleared that Adrian and I looked up from our rather cozy position to see Jean standing in the doorway. 

We separated quicker than oil and water. 

"Scott's going to stop and pick something up from a restaurant." Jean's voice had a funny tinge to it. "So don't ruin your appetite too much." She gave a humorless smile. "You know, with sweet stuff." 

I was blushing like mad, and Adrian shrugged and left. Five minutes after I was left in the vending machine room, I finally had given up on trying to figure older females and guys as a whole out. They were strange creatures. 

* * *

Another two days later, six days since D-M went into the ICU. 

I was full, wide awake and it was three. Everyone else in the room was full, sound asleep and it was still three. 

Deciding that blasting the TV wouldn't be a wise thing, I got up and started to wander around the halls. Amazingly enough, not twenty-five feet away from the waiting room was a happy looking Bobby-Jerk. 

"What are you doing?" I asked, arms crossed and eyebrow arching. 

Did I forget to mention he was in a wheelchair? 

"Being bored." He turned around on one wheel. "There's nothing much we can do for her. I'm not tired and the nurses are now on watch for me in the geriatrics since I went in there singing 'Who Wouldn't Want to Be Me.'" He shrugged. 

"Geri-atrics?" 

"Where they keep the old people." Bobby-Jerk clarified. His wrapped up hand was sitting in his lap. I felt bad because of that. Not like I could have prevented it, but I still didn't think he should have been cut up like that while just trying to help someone. "Wanna race?" 

"What? How? Besides, isn't stealing wheelchairs wrong?" 

Bobby-jerk smiled. "Nah, they weren't using them. Besides, Scott and I use to take the Prof's spare wheelchairs all the time and race up and down the halls." 

I choked. "_ScottM_. HE use to do that?" I couldn't' see Mr. Straight Laced with Starch doing that. It was just breaking too many natural laws. 

He grinned. "Yeah, so, want to see if you can beat me and carry on the Summers' name as gold medal wheelchair racer?" 

Who could have passed up such a tempting offer. 

Half an hour later we were caught by Jean and Adrian. Apparently our banter and screaming about running into walls had woken everyone up, even the nurses. They rudely told us to put the wheelchairs back where we had gotten them and to grow up. 

Sheesh, we only knocked one person over---who just happened to be the head nurse----but still! They just over-reacted! 

Not to mention Bobby-jerk won and when he told Dad as much Jean rolled her eyes. Dad, under his breath and close enough for only me and Bobby-Jerk to hear, said there would be a rematch at the mansion. 

Who would've thought Scott as a wheelchair maniac? 

And who would've thought I'd be following in his wheel tracks? 

* * *

It was the seventh day, which brought the most joy and cause of celebration. But only a small joy and a one man party celebration. 

"Daisy is out of the critical stage, but is still very weak. It's the most amazing thing we have ever seen. She is only half as bad as originally thought and improving every moment. I recommend that you don't go home. Cases such as this have known to take a turn for the worst in a split second. I think she'll want to see some friendly and familiar faces when she comes through, if she comes through during visiting hours." 

There was a general sigh of relief at this information. D-M was going to be okay for now. After the news, there was a general buzz of happiness and comfort. 

Not being much of a touchy feely type, I made my way to a floor or two up. I was told to meet them in the cafeteria in an hour or so to have breakfast. Where I ended up was right outside the nursery. Don't ask me why, my whole life has been scared silly and then worried till gray hair showed up in one day. My wings twitched with a lazy rhythm, I guess they were trying to warm up. 

The babies were just as wrinkled and pink as one would think they would be. I can't believe these little hairless pugs were going to be adults one day. They looked like they all needed a good ironing. 

Smiling I laughed at my own thoughts. I guess that proves it, I'm as far from a girl-girl as a girl can be and still be considered slightly normal. I mean how healthy or common is it to think that babies need to be ironed to get all the wrinkles out? 

"Typical girl, has to run to the nursery." I whirled around to see Jack leaning up against the wall, a smile on his face. "At least I think it's typical." 

"Do I seem typical?" I inquired, turning back to the baby window display. OH come on, they have dresses and shoes arranged behind a sheet of glass on the street, they do it with these kids too! You have got to see the connection! 

"No." I felt him come closer but I didn't care at the moment. I watched as a little girl with the name 'Carol' kicked around in her pink blanket. Thoughts about D-M being a mother to a child like that, and then having to watch her die---no wonder she wanted to kill. They can't help themselves and those hypocritical nurses and doctors held it over the baby's head like it was her fault. 

Why were people so cruel? 

My eyebrows flatten as my sense of humor remembered that I was the daughter of an emotionally hurtful woman myself. 

Remember when I said I didn't care at the moment? Well two minutes later I did care where Jack was. The babies, in my mind at least, all stop wiggling and woke up from their naps to go 'oooouuuuuuuuuuu' at the blushing teenager in front of them. His arms were tightly wrapped around my waist, his head rested on my shoulder. This is the closest he has gotten to me in a long time. Well, except that freak death-grip hug thing he pulled like a month and half ago. Maybe it was longer than that, I forget the when but I remembered what happened clear enough. 

"Are you really okay?" 

I shook my head 'no'. 

"She'll be fine, you know. Hank and the other handful of mutant doctors have been alerted, or so says Hank. She'll be fine. And if she turns out to be not so---okay, then know it wasn't your fault." 

My head went down like I was ashamed. Perhaps I was. It was easier to blame myself than to stand haughtily to the side and say 'ain't my problem'. I was the type of girl who accepted everything as my fault. It was easier than pointing fingers. Well, I am that way sometimes. 

The rest of the time I'm in denial. 

The added pressure to my stomach made my mind come back to the present. 

I think I scared him because I didn't respond at first. Finally he started to remove his grasp, but a hand stopped him. My hand rested on top of his as I relaxed into his embrace. Though, the wings did present a slight problem. Sometimes I really wish they would just go away. 

* * *

After the great news, everyone found their appetites. Since it was breakfast time, we all trooped down to the dining facility. 

In the cafeteria, Dr. Hank was enjoying a pot of coffee with a straw sticking out of it. Jean looked exhausted and Scott became her new pole for remaining up right. Chris was fighting with Julie over the TV channel. 

What they landed on was the news. 

What the news said was something I never wanted to hear. 

I mean I completely froze. My breakfast dropped from my hands as my jaw decided to curl up in my lap. 

"...In a recent development in the case of the John Doe found close to five weeks ago, there has finally been a positive identification. The man is said to be George Wilder from Acola, Washington. The cause of death, as reported by the police, was a point blank gun shot to the head..." 

Oh boy.... 


	82. Did She?

Lucky Me Chapter 82

* * *

Author's Note: I have a new 'author art' put up on Kookie's Pan :P And I hear promises of more fanart! isn't that great! I have up to chapter 85 in the works. Yes, I have no life and have been having problems shutting my muse, RoveR, up. I still beg for reviews! The funnies will be back, me promise, but whose life is all candy and comedy? 

* * *

My eyes were nothing but slits. "I gave you an answer." I spat it out. I was sick of being interrogated by the X-Cops in front of me. "It's the same answer I've given you since you asked." 

"Which is why we want you to clarify what you mean by it." Professor was making this song and dance all too familiar. "Do you know anything about the death of George Wilder?" 

My eyes rolled as I let out a huff. "Yes." 

"How? What do you know?" My eyes went into a relaxed, frozen expression. His voice was irritated and demanding. As headmaster he desired honesty from all his students. Even the thick headed ones. 

When the common answer came forth, they all seemed to go to upset times ten. My answer? Complete and utter silence. 

Want to know how this got started? Of course, you'd be completely lost if I didn't go back to the day at the hospital, a week after D-M had been admitted. The morning the people who were there decided to have breakfast in the cafeteria right next to the television. 

It was right after the announcement that Scott looked at the enlarged image of George, the killer of innocent men when it started. He said he thought he recognized the man's face. Then they showed the area around where the body was found. 

The place was pretty close to my old house, so close in fact that you could see the old, ugly paint of the house in the background. 

"He was with that gang who attacked us!" Dad said proudly, then instantly got confused. "I don't remember tying him up though." His brow knit together. Scott had tied all those who attacked us to a tree with a rope they had meant to tie _us_ up with. Ironic isn't it? 

"Did you hear anything?" Jean questioned. Scott shrugged and said it was hard to hear over the jaws popping and cursing. Then they asked me and Chris. The boy muttered that he was knocked out during the fight. When they asked me, I turned my nose up in the air and said I didn't know anything about it. 

Two days they would find out that I was lying. 

Wolverine had gotten wind of the crime the same day, and since he had a suspicion, he took a plane with Bishop and went to Washington without anyone else knowing. Whatever they found had Mr. Logan storming into a meeting between Scott and the Professor. That, in turn, lead to them steaming until I came back from the hospital that day with Jean. 

It's been the same song and dance routine since that day. Every time they'd ask the same question, the question that got the same answer. 

"We want to believe you are innocent, Kerry. But we need proof." 

"Isn't my word good enough?" I quipped. My back hurt because I had been sitting like a body with rigamortis for so long. 

"But you haven't said whether or not you have done anything, only that you do know something." Professor tried again. I guess he was a firm believer of the old saying of 'try, try again'. 

My eyes floated over to Dad who looked uncomfortable and Jean who seemed upset in a sad way. "Don't you know my well enough by now to know?" Yes, I was trying to turn the conversation but I was merely an apprentice, the pro was not fooled. 

"Please satisfy our curiosity. For if you don't, I'm afraid that the evidence has provided might prove to put you in a great deal of trouble." Ah, he used this tactic as well. I refuse to let him know, to let any of them know. 

"You seem to have already made up your mind about me." I stated with a bored tone. "Besides, isn't this what you're teaching us, Professor? To take out those who threaten mutant kind? George was a part of the F.o.H. Tell me, was his murder a bad thing for humans or a good thing for mutants that there is one less closed mind twit in the world?" 

Scott's eyes must have been widened considerable because his jaw even moved slightly. 

"So you did do it." Professor, with a mild depressed triumphant sound in his voice, concluded. 

"I never said that. I hate guns. I think they are one of the worst inventions which have ever been made." I shifted in the chair, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. "And after a year plus training how to use my body as a lethal weapon I still have to rely on a _gun_ then that means I would have flunked all the courses." 

Was I messing with their heads? Maybe, maybe not. Why didn't I come out and just tell them the truth? Easy, I didn't want them to know. I was partly ashamed and the rest was beaming with pride. 

"If we could telepathically scan your thoughts…"Jean trailed off. She knew it was impossible to do without making me have a seizure or something close to that. My shields were thick and sky high. To try to pry into my brain would cause so much internal damage it wasn't worth it to them. 

"May I go now?" Proper, yes I know. "I still have a homework to do." Dismissed with a wave of the hand, I walked out to the balcony then with one flap of my wings I was in front of my window. Slipping inside I locked the window soundly to make sure my point got across. 

The questions weren't over. 

Jack sat on my bed, flipping Stitch over between his hands. "Did you do it?" 

"Hello to you too." I rolled my eyes and went to cross the room. What ended up happening is me being pulled, by the arm, into his lap where he trapped me by his own arms. Struck speechless I could only raise my eyebrows and stare at him a bit dumbfounded. 

"Did you do it?" He asked again. 

I sighed, "not you too." 

"I just want to know. I won't tell the Prof, but I want to know." 

I frowned slightly. "Do you think I did it? Do you think I killed him?" 

"No." I love the way there was no hesitation or uncertainty. The one worded reply brought a smile to my face. The first one in nearly two weeks since this whole thing started. 

"Then believe that." 

"But is it the right thing to believe?" He questioned again. It broke my heart to see so much pleading in his eyes because I knew I'd never be able to make the pleading bare fruit. It wasn't his problem whatever happened in Acola. It was mine. It was my business. 

Of course try get these New England Busy Body League members would never accept such an answer. Just because Wolverine and Mr. Bishop went to Acola, found my 'scent' all around the murder scene didn't mean I actually _did_ it. Of course I have yet to say that I didn't do it either. 

Jack put his face against my neck. In the three weeks since this started (it began when D-M went into the hospital) he has become bolder, and I really can't say I have a problem with that. After all, for once he's not trying to put on a show for other people's sake. 

That was until he fell asleep, lost his balance and had us both slammed on the floor. The slam which accompanied our fall was heard below. Dad came up to investigate and I was lucky enough to have enough wit to shove Jack into the closet. 

Dad just raised his eyebrow when I said I merely fell off of my bed because I was….trimming my wings. 

"Next time, learn to do so more quietly." 

Yeah, tell that to the bonehead in my closet. 

* * *

Daisy's eyes were glazed over, like someone had sucked all the life out of them and replaced it with plastic or something. She had been in this place for three and half weeks. They still had her on oxygen and her vital signs were all good and enter a lot of medical jargon here. 

"Hi, D-M." I greeted with fake cheer. The doctors and nurses told me and Chris (the ones visiting at the time) that if we got into another grudge match like the last time, we'd be forbidden to visit her. Any depressing or upset 'vibes' coming off of us could upset Daisy even more and be damaging to her recovery efforts. 

So I was told to smile like Barbie and act like Wal-Mart door greeter. Chris they told to just not say anything and stick to the shadows since his scowl was something they considered as permanent. 

Daisy-Mae's eyes drifted over to me before blinking and looking the other way once again. 

She's been unresponsive to everyone or at least that is what I have been told by everyone. Chris, who did not take the shadow advice, stomped in with his arms crossed. Daisy's face lit up slightly at his approach. Do _not_ tell me she still has it for him? 

Oy! Talk about confusing. I think I shall dub my life 'Days of Our X-Lives'. 

"What are you still doing in here?" Chris snapped at D-M who gave a hint of a smile. 

Oh peachy, she was one of those girls who loved being fused at, what a weirdo. 

Sighing, I picked up a magazine and decided to let them have their time together. I wasn't too sure of it but I don't think there are any feelings on Chris' side regarding their past fling. And if there is or if there isn't, it really isn't my problem so why should I care? 

I opened the magazine so rough it tore on the top and bottom. 

"Something bothering you, Kookie?" 

My nose was firmly planted in pretending to read. "Nope." I said, accenting the answer with a firm head shake. "Just don't try to make out with her oxygen mask. It would seem a pathetic way to die." 

"Then I'll make out with my hand. The way _you_ do." Chris' arrogance didn't need to be seen, it could be felt. My grip on the innocent publication tightened. 

"Bite me, Christopher." 

"Mark a mile." 

D-M's heart monitor started to beep a little more frequently. Oops, guess we should learn to pipe down. 

* * *

It was Friday when the ominous Nikki-Jo slammed my locker door shut and looked at me through her heavily mascaraed eyelashes. 

"It's been a while Cooker." 

I frowned, "it's Kookie." Okay so how much dignity have when they admit that their name is a baked good? Not much let me tell you. 

"Whatever. You seem to know Daisy-Mae, do you know where she is? I know she's getting home schooled now because of some reason but I haven't heard from her in a couple of weeks and we were suppose to do something this weekend." 

Half of me wanted to flip my hair and say 'no clue' but the other half (the friendlier half by far) just sneered at her and willed me to tell the truth. "She's sick." So it wasn't the full drawn out truth complete with orchestra and dancing girls, but it was still true. 

"Like what, flu sick?" Nikki didn't seem happy to be conversing with the common rabble. My eyes narrowed slightly. 

"No. A little more sick than the flu. If you want to know then go to local hospital. I'm sure they'd admit you." To the psyche ward. Her eyes blazed with understanding. "I mean, they'd permit you to see her." 

Without so much as a word the girl turned and took off down the hall. Good riddance to over perfumed rubbish. 

* * *

Friday night and we were wasting time in the Danger Room. 

Until the power was cut. The team groaned in unison. Great. 

"What's the problem?" Julie screamed. She was adjusting to bringing pain to the populace a little too easily. Of course she's natural born sadist so I don't think it should surprise me too much. 

The doors slid open and we stared at Dad with his visor glowing rather eerily. You could only see the two bright balls of red where his eyes were suppose to be. 

"Change in plans kids." My eyes rolled on their own accord I swear! "We let you have 'together' time instead of training with me so you could participate in a little outdoor activity." 

We conned Adam into doing it as well, poor boy. He was slightly out of practice, still intent on leaving as soon as D-M was promised to be okay. 

"It's raining!" Julie complained, stomping her foot once we had made it outside. 

"How observant." Chris snapped, rolling his eyes. 

"Today's exercise is going to be a bit you've done before." Cyclops explained as he walked into the downpour. 

"Sit on our duffs and see what's on the telly?" 

"You're not going to be able to sit when we're through with you." I heard 'snikt' and my feathers would have turned yellow if I had any say over it. Wolverine was releasing his claws. We'd be lucky to breathe after this! 

"Game starts as soon as you leave the stoop." Those in my team looked at each other and we shrugged. It was unofficially decided, we just wouldn't leave the stoop. 

"Time to play!" 

Without warning Dr. Hank, er, Beast had pushed us out into the open and before we had a chance to catch our balance they started to shot, fire and fly at us. 

Squeking, I took to the sky. 

Bad idea. Rogue and Archangel were guessing I would pull something like that and down went Kerry. Smack into a healthy pile of mud. "Gross!" I wiped the brown muck off of my face just in time to be railroaded by Adam. He ran us both into the near by woods. From the two second break we were allowed, I could see Julie's flames in a spectrum of color, Chris' electricity rippling through the sky and reflections off of Adrian's hand blades. 

Then _they_ all turned tail and ran. 

"We can't keep running from them." When Gambit sent a few bright red cards in our direction, Adam suddenly changed his mind. "On the other hand, running is great for the cardiovascular system!" Slamming my in the back to give me, what I guess is, a better start I went one way and Adam took the other. 

This course lead me to trouble. Every course would have if I think about it. There were probably ten million X peoples waiting for us, to pounce as soon as we showed up. I couldn't fly because of Archangel and Rogue, my running blindly through the woods wasn't exactly intelligent either. I mean, Wolverine could be lurking around in here. 

ZAK! 

Or some other person with a really big gun. I screeched and tried to do a U-turn to prevent me from getting shot into crumbled Kookies. 

The gun fired again and I was on the run again. Deciding being flung around in the air was more pleasant than being roasted on the ground, I took to the air. Even through the rain and the night, I could see where I was headed which was good thing since I had no _clue_ why I was headed that way. 

Mr. Warren and Miss Rogue were either looking the other way or just didn't feel like beating me up anymore. Whatever the reason, I landed near the end of the ground right before it took a nosedive three hundred feet. Got to love misplaced geography. 

Wiping some of the rain from my eyes was a bad thing. It took that nano second for my predator to hunt and attack. 

A painfully firm hand shot out and held on to my throat like it was trying to pop it off or something. 

"I've got her." The deep, cold male voice announced over the X badge. Good, at least he was still part of the X-peoples. But then again, I thought as he tightened his grip, there are no witnesses and I might have ticked him off somehow. 

Better think of a distraction before I end up with a bruised neck! 

"T-This was all set up to get to _me_?" I struggled against the iron like grip of my captor. As he slowly walked us out of the dark trees and closer to the cliff, I understood why it felt like iron. Stable? Gabal? Cable? What was his name! 

"Cable." He stated simply. Oh crap, could he read my mind? "All of your strength and fear is focused on my grip, not my mental attacks." My shields slammed down as I released my grip on his hand and hung limply by the throat. "Cute." He remarked dryly. 

"Waa----what do you want?" Hey, have you ever tried to talk while have the jaws of life clamped around you throat? 

"To find out what you know about George Wilder." My eyes wanted to bug out (due to surprise and complete lack of oxygen) my feet trembled slightly as I felt the edge of the cliff under the back half of my heel. "And to get to see how good my 'little sister's' teachers are." 

I gagged on my words and his grip loosened enough to allow me a decent helping of air. "I know he's dead. I know he was shot and I know everyone thinks I did it." Yes, I chose to ignore the last half of the statement. 

"Did you?" I flailed around, not really keeping tabs on the dramatics. His one eye glowed with gold energy, making me have flashbacks to that albino-vampire with a model body. I knew what she meant when she said she wanted freedom. It was the same thing I was longing for at the moment. 

For another half minute I gasped and struggled with his metal hand, even through the thick glove I felt the chill of cold metallic skin. It was creepy. I held his wrist firmly in my hands, my foot slid further back till my boot heel caught the edge of the cliff. 

With a smirk I would be later eating no doubt, I used my strength to lock his wrist between my flesh handcuffs (aka hands with claws). "That'd be telling." I then used my heel to push against the ground. As expected it caught him enough off guard to have us tumbling through the air in under two seconds. 

His curses were very colorful and in several languages. 

I flipped over, so I was facing the ground and spread my wings. They slowed my decent dramatically and I waited to see a silver haired man hit the ground. No such victory ever came. Weird, I looked around and then behind me. 

My wings should have just stayed closed. There he was, in all his bad-boy glory glowing like a night light (yeah, manly image I'm sure) and frowning at me with his whole face. "That wasn't very nice." 

Oh flying spit bunnies. 

* * *

When I came thru in the Med. Lab, Adam said that Cable said I gave an okay-for-a-rookie fight before finally losing consciousness. My old teammate also clarified that as soon as Cable got a hold of me, the rest of the team just stopped fighting and was pretty much left alone. Well, after they had cried out 'surrender' or in Chris' case, got knocked out cold. 

They said Cable had _not_ come just to play cat and bird in Dad's twisted game, but was actually compiling information on the three bases we hit (and were hit at, my threat to that tree still stands!). Also, this was his vacation. I can't see where this would be a world class resort. Instead of going to the pain and suffering, let the pain and suffering come to the convenient spot of Salem Center! 

I spent the night in the medical bay, listening to the voices from the hall. Dad and Jack were fighting the others verbally, in hushed voices as whether or not they should keep pressuring me with something I might have or might not have done. 

Shivering, I turned over on my side. My wings started to throb but I chose to ignore them for the time being. Closing my eyes, memories of how the gun smelt, the way it vibrated, the sound of it as the trigger was pulled. No, no they would never know what I did. 

Not until I was on my death bed or dead! 

* * *

Questions, Comments and Critics:   
Cris-X: If I don't continue the story you're going to make me go to Disney land?  
Lady Hope: Hide? Moi? Since when have I been secretive *eg*  
badger wolf: Thanks for the opinion on the 'vampire chick' heh. I am trying to update once a week. But if I feel the chapter was really cruddy, then asap. And no, reviewing that the chapter is bad will not make me write faster  
Water Angel: With the story almost over, it would be very cruel and weird to stop it know, don't you think? *g*  
Crysophinx: Chris as Jack…? How? And thanks for the awesome compliments!  
Frances: If I don't keep smackin' ya, y'all go away! Warren is going to be back, don't worry, probably in chapter 84 or 85.  
C-theory: Ego fed! Thanks!  
Lilrogue: Can't you just? There has to be a kink in Scott's armor somewhere!  
Rede: Who killed George? Didn't this chapter answer it? It didn't? Perfect *eg*  
Kerry: I still have a few plans for D-M. She's not going anywhere for long…  
Angstwolf: I'm not telling. Jack as Bobby? Possibly. Hank sleeping? Eventually.   
CiCi: Heh, she was in shock that it had been discovered, true. And as for D-M they won't have much of a choice but try to trust her again!  
Katsie2: I am 82 chapters and going strong!  
demonicamazon: Loved? I wanna send all my reviewers a big chocolate candy kiss for almost 30 reviews for a single chapter. Begging always works *sweat drop* And the Logan thing was only logical. He seems to be able to smell EVERYTHING in the comic, why not in a fanfic too? Julie is still a mystery waiting to be solved or explained. My friend who also is Betareader B said she never wonders too much because she knows I'll tell eventually. It seriously makes me want to _not_ to tell some of the secrets. They are concerned guardians. An unspoken belief in the couple that Kerry is smart enough to catch up after missing a few days. Ah, the uniforms. Right now they are still mostly in spandex but moving towards the movie look gradually. I, personally, prefer the comic look. *shrugs* maybe I just have a thing for jackets. Yar, Jack madness is fun! Cable? Funny you should mention him! *eg* Adrian was the only logical choice! Heheh. Jean couldn't read her mind for reasons which will be explained if the character makes another appearance. Most likely Blight was still in shock about the whole white albino girl attacking her. I know I would be! As for sequels and spin offs, I have a few ideas but will not explore them until this monster has been put to rest.   
Aubs: Write a book? *face twitches* I don't have that much devotion for something like that! But thank you!  
GoddessChild: Wrong end of Logan's claws? Hehe. Hopefully you will stick with it till the end! And a writer for Marvel? Yar, if it be in God's will, neh?  
Frozenfireball: heh, everyone likes the creepy vampire girl! Lol  
Munsje: Yar, you never are sure in this story are you? Hehehe  
Maraena: *taps finger to chin* Pryor? Neh, that's a possibility.   
Girlonthem00n: I've read stories like that! Heh, I'm going "I will go to bed at 1" and then it's four and I'm trying to sneak into my bedroom without my now awake dad finding out  
Gryfyndor Girl: Fanart! YEAH!!!! I love fanart! ^.^ And as for my betas….I will see them in a week's time….er, a week and a few days time. *sweat drop*  
Relunctantdragon: Annoying is a character trait we all possess. And thanks for the review!  
blue cover: I can start writing horribly….but I really dun wanna! *eg* And I'm sure that by chapter 100 or 105 or somewhere around there, you will have all questions solved and cliffhangers destroyed!  
Wolf8: so you aren't sure but covering all bases just in case, right?   
S.W.H.: In the Marvel world time is not certain. Kerry became close to Scott because of her constantly working with him and having him open up his 'home' to her when they adopted her. Making her feel wanted. She didn't have a dad for two years and it killed her inside because she blames herself for her dad's death. With Scott it is almost like a second chance. He has proven to care for her on some level though he has not vocalized it. Err…..that was a little too much information for me regarding the ages…..*laughs nervously* And Wolverine didn't ream her, just got her into a whole heckva lot of trouble.  
CyborgSmeet: I never said she killed George….  
Kittenchatter: *takes deep breath* I mentioned it in the story that Trish Tilby use to date Beast. He told her about the Legacy Virus and she turned around and broadcasted it to the whole world. That's how the populace found out about the Legacy Virus. D-M had a daughter who had an obvious mutation (hair color) and since the scare of the Legacy Virus was new, the doctors let the baby die. Too scared to help the child in fear of contracting the deadly disease. My mom works in a hospital and yet I never see anyone in wheelchairs…*pouts* I'd bring it back…eventually.   
Silvergryffn: The vampire girl seems to be on everyone's 'wanna know more' list. Heh, who knew?   
Smeg: The box is now boxes and categorized alphabetically if that tells ya how much stuff is going on! :- ) 


	83. Teenage Tequila

Lucky Me Chapter 83

* * *

Author's Note: In an effort to make Kerry seem a bit more real, I have decided to through in a typical teenager problem. I don't condone this action and never have been in this condition myself *shrugs* just was never my thing. Oh, and I am now working on an AU story dealing with Kerry! ;) I'm obsessed with my own character…this can't be healthy! Plus I need someone to help me with pre-read (not beta) for the AU universe. It's not even a page but I figured if I asked now I might get a response by the time I do. Thanks!

* * *

If they ever accuse mutants for causing all the problems in the world, I'll hit them over the head with their Pulitzer prizes and demand for them to take it back. Trouble doesn't need an X gene or a Jean with an X or big black feathery wings. Nope, all trouble needs is someone who is human. Someone who happens to be my best school friend, Alexis. 

I don't know if there is a special store that brains go shopping at when we are asleep, but something put an evil thought in her head. We were walking towards my seventh hour class and she was chatting about something. I was too busy trying to not think about anything or anyone. 

Of course it was the rare time of reflection that made Alexis stop, turn me around and stare me dead in the eye. 

"You have a problem." She stated matter-of-factly. 

"And which online university did you graduate from?" 

"I think I know what it is." She had that sly look about her. And when Alexis has that 'sly' look about her, you usually run or claim to be stupid or something. "You," she poked me in the chest. "Need a guy." 

"Huh!?" What, that little question/exclamation didn't clear my reaction up well enough? "I don't need ano---er, a guy!" One was enough to take up any time I might be able to find between warding off questions and accusations and running a team and going to school and practicing, see where I'm going with all this? 

"You've had, what, K'yo? Who hasn't. And then that weird thing with Adrian which I believe and hope it was one sided. Then that kiss with Chris you were crying over all last spring. You use to have that cutie Jack, but you don't talk about him anymore. You need a guy. A steady guy." Hands on hips, head bopping to make her points. She was serious. I was in trouble. 

"I-it's not like that! I'm just putting my education, " and learning how to save the world in 10,000 casualties or less. "first." 

"What-ever! You're SEVENTEEN. You should be putting your social life first!" Alexis rolled her brown eyes. "Give me your notebook." Like I had a choice. She snatched it from under my arm produced a marker from seemingly nowhere and started to write on it. 

"Wait! You shouldn't do---" I tried to stop her, but she fended me off with an elbow and a look. 

"You'll thank me for this later! I'll get this back to you tomorrow! You'll see this is for the best, girl!" She took off down the hallway like a rabid rat with a piece of prized cheese. 

I sighed and shook my head, "but that's Adrian's notebook." 

"And you're late for class, Miss Summers." Mr. Drake pointed out, grabbing me by my arm and hauling me into the classroom. 

* * *

My eyes were as large as a set of tennis balls. 

She got the notebook back to me all right. Alexis also took the liberties of redecorating it. The poor paper thing was stretched in my hands. "W-what have you done?" My stutter was actually improving, ten seconds ago all I could do was squeak. 

"Oh come on, girl! I made your notebook look like a normal teen's notebook, that's all." Alexis made her head do this funny little chicken move thing. "You should be thanking me." 

I glimpsed down at the front of Adrian's notebook again. Before all it had was some weird little swirly designs on it and the class it was for. Now it was covered with hearts. Above the hearts was 'I' and below the hearts was a single name. 

"W-why did you have to pick that name?" It was before first hour and Adrian hadn't come in yet (thank goodness). 

"What? Don't you think 'Bobby' is a normal name?" I groaned. "Bob sounded too fake and Robert sounded too Mr. Drakeish." She shrugged, I hit my head on my desk. 

"Hey, Kookie." Oh no, Adrian. "Is that mine? Can I have it back?" He seemed awful chipper this morning. I tried a couple of lame excuses but in the end, I handed over the notebook. "Thanks, Kookie." He smiled sat down and dropped the notebook on the desk. 

My shoulders were tense, if he didn't notice it in class perhaps I could run away before getting yelled at. 

Of course, I made it through the rest of the class without him noticing. 

Wonder how long it would last? 

Little did I know that while I was trying to stay awake during 'MacBeth', Alexis fished out one of my other notebooks. 

She'd get it back to me later. 

* * *

It was October and D-M was taken from the ICU as the baffled doctors repeatedly told us they didn't understand how someone so sick could be healing! Heh, good thing they didn't have her blood sent out for a mutant test or anything. She was moved to the second floor of the hospital. 

Although D-M still resembled a computer with ten different hook ups because of all the IVs they had popping out of her, she was off the oxygen. And that meant she could talk. 

And since she had nearly a month to make up for, she talked plenty. 

"And anyway, like I was saying…" I smiled and tried not to cross my eyes in pure boredom. Apparently the girl made buddies with a few of the nurses who really should have been soap stars. Their love lives were things that romance novelist would blush out right from hearing. "How's Chris?" 

That caught my attention. "Fine, why?" 

D-M looked down at her hands then up at me again with a weak smile. The type of expression a child has after being caught with a cookie in her mouth before dinner. "I'm not dumb, Kookie." 

But I surely was. "Duh." That was just the type of answer that dumb people like me give. 

"I see the way he looks at you." Oh no, not her too. "Maybe you should just go with it." 

I wasn't too sure I could understand all she was saying. It was painfully obvious that she still held a torch for good (ha) old Chris, so why was she so willing to shove him into my lap? And why the heck was everyone so interested in my love life all of a sudden? Or like life. Like like life? "I don't want him." It was the truth, something I have avoided telling everyone since the chant of 'what do you know about George Wilder's death' started. 

Daisy went from shy kid to ecstatic teenager. "Really? That's great! I didn't really want the two of you together! I think you and---" Dad came in. "--er, Stitch make a cute pair." 

Scott shrugged off her ramblings, probably thinking it was from the medication or something. "Time to go." I smiled and said my good-byes to D-M. She was too happy to care much for anything else. 

Wonder if Chris knows?

* * *

"Hey, girl." Alexis called cheerfully. The bad person who wrote 'I love Rick' all over my notebook which HE found. Talk about hard to explain. 

"You!" I growled. It was her fault that after visiting D-M, Jack cornered me and forced me to tell him who 'Rick' was. After getting it through his head she was the one responsible for the messed up notebook, I got to get some sleep. Until the alarm went off. No, no threat, just a 'glitch' in the system. 

Alexis took a step back. "What I do?" 

I jerked up my notebook (now missing its front cover) "You did this." 

She crossed her arms. "No I didn't. I gave you that back with a cover." 

"You ruined it!" I was ready to use the spirals to tie her up when she shifted subjects on me. 

"Can you come over Friday? You know, to spend the night?" 

I blinked at her in surprise. "Huh?" 

She pulled me closer by the arm and whispered. "My folks are out of town, I can get us into a few clubs in a city a little east of here. Sounds like fun doesn't it?" 

I plucked her arm off of me. "Yeah, if I want to die." 

"Oh come on! Even if you do get caught, which you won't, what's the worst they could do?" Images of the Danger Room and one on one training with Dad and Mr. Logan at the same time came to my mind. There were worse things they could do, and such thoughts sent shivers down my spine. 

"Trust me, death would be a blessing." 

"That many rules, huh?" 

My dead pan voice probably surprised her. "They have a ninety page, spiral bound book they hand out." 

Her jaw dropped. "You're kidding me!" 

"Nope." I sighed. "Anyway, I'll see what my parents have to say." I wasn't going to actually ask to go, just tell them Alexis plans and back out. 

* * *

Later that night, I was in the boathouse watching Jean pack up for the weekend. Scott and Jean had planned a little get away for the weekend or something. 

Remember when I said I wasn't going to ask to go to Alexis' house? I changed my tune when I had once again been harassed by questions. Even now, with Jean packing she was bugging me in more subtle ways. 

It had been five hours of this torture and after the weeks of being poked and prodded to death about George, I was fed up. They honestly thought I was guilty without any proof but a nose. If they thought I was such a hooligan, then I might as well act the part, right? 

Grinding my teeth together. "So, can I?" 

Scott popped out of nowhere with an armful of laundry. "I'm not sure, Kerry. You've never been away from the mansion without any of the others since you've come here." 

"Which is way I think I'm overdue for a vacation." I was attempting to make my wish come true. I wasn't going to do anything totally stupid like get drunk or get carried away to a hotel room. I was doing this to show them that I could have done something really stupid, had an open opportunity but didn't. 

Scott and Jean shared a look. The look meant they were 'discussing' things mentally. After five minutes with only a stop to fold underwear (gross), Scott finally shrugged. "I guess so. Just leave Alexis' phone number with someone." 

I jumped off the bed, screamed a 'thanks' and took off. Boy were they going to regret that decision.

* * *

Thursday and Alexis threw me another twist. 

"You can? Great!" That's not the twist, that's just grasping the edges. "Then I can say I'm staying at your house and we can have the night all freed up!" 

I dropped my sandwich. "What?" 

"Come on, girl. You don't really think my Dad and Mom would ever let me go to a party?" 

"I thought you said club." 

She shrugged, "both." 

This was the time when the wise reconsider and beat a hasty retreat. Instead, and because I am myself, I smiled and asked, "What time do we have to be ready?" 

* * *

Friday night, probably Saturday morning for as much as I cared. 

The bright lights were hurting my eyes and doing an interesting fade in-fade out thing. I knew I shouldn't have had that much! Actually, maybe I should have another. Alexis slung her arm around my shoulders, tilting sideways and almost taking me with her. 

"W'at ya doin' girl?" The world started to look like a giant fish bowl. 

"I---don't remember?" What was I going to do? Checking my hand my sense hit me. OH yeah! I was going to call Jack and invite him to the party! Kenney might be a complete sleeze, but he does throw the best parties…I think. This is my first one so I'm not sure. 

What was I going to do? 

"Get 'nother drink." Alexis swayed on her feet and staggered away from me. I think she was staggering, I couldn't tell because I don't think I was standing perfectly still. Why was the house moving? 

I tried to follow her but a jerk at my hand made me look back. Oh right, the phone. Maybe I should order pizza? Yeah! Yum, that would be fun! 

Jack! I was going to call Jack and ask him how to do something…I think. Feed my cat? Must be. I dialed the number, and when an old man answered I hung up. Hmm, the must have switched the numbers on the dialing pad around on me. 

Studying the phone intently, I pushed each button for a good ten seconds before pressing the other one. Tinkerbelle was caught up in the phone because she kept cussing at me in a phone ringing way. Jack must've killed her because I heard his voice instead of Tink's. 

OH, my throbbing head! 

"Hello?" 

"HEY!" I screamed. "I need you to beat a bat." 

"Kerry? Is that you?" He sounded so serious at that moment. 

"Poison. Feed the cat pozin." I scratched my shoulder where someone kept taping me. After the seventh time I was going to drag them through the mud until I remembered it was my wings. 

"Are you drunk?" He sounded like cold stone. 

"Noo!" I waved my hand in front of me. "I juz had a few---" 

"Where. Are. You." 

"By the phone." 

I heard a deep sigh. "Whose phone?" 

"Dunno." I picked up the base and examined it carefully. "AT & T's phone." 

Another sigh. "What part of town are you in?" 

"Kenney's." 

Then he hung up on me. Sheesh, what a loser! I hope I told him to take the cookies out of the oven. 

That's why I called him right? 

Did I call him? Maybe I should call and ask. 

* * *

I woke up in a moving ship. 

Wait, not a ship, a car. I nice car. "Where----" 

"With me." Oh, I know that voice! It was Jack! An angry Jack? No fun! 

Turning my head, I noticed I was in the passenger seat of one of the community cars. The Onvoy if I wasn't mistaken and given my current state of affairs, I probably was. After an eternity I finally felt my brain start to wake up. 

Jack didn't look happy. His expression was like a person who just got held up by a squirrel with a gun or something. Lethal yet pathetic at the same time. His jaw was locked tightly. Even through my buzz I knew I was in trouble. "Say something." I pleaded, rubbing my arms together. 

His eyes, I never seen any ones so _cold_. He wasn't upset, he wasn't mad, he was an erupting volcano ready to blow. We drove in complete silence, Alexis was moaning in the back. Oh goody, I was hoping we hadn't forgotten her. I don't think she knew where she was or where we were. I could call Jack by his real name and she probably wouldn't have ever known. 

The roads were rainy and dark. It was a good half an hour yet to go. I don't think it could have gotten any more frigid in the vehicle without starting the next ice age. 

"I'm taking you home, Alexis." Razor sharp words which probably what cut through Alexis drunken haze. 

"No! Owww!" She moaned, "you can't." Her hand crawled up the side of the chair, with a grunt she pulled herself up into a sitting position. "M-my parents aren't expecting me back till tomorrow morning. They think I'm over at her house." A dangerous sound that made me think she was going to hurl. "They'd kill me." 

"Why should Kerry die alone?" 

"Die?" I questioned looking over towards him--them? Why did Jack have three heads? And why were two see-thru? 

How very strange….

* * *

"Wuz thiz?" Alexis croaked as Jack hauled her out of the car and dragged her towards the boathouse. I thought I was going to be in BIG trouble, but my 'rents aren't here! Nope! They are gone to rekindle the fire or something. 

Hope they don't set Jean's hair on fire….two bald telepaths! What a riot! Jack collected me next, I was laughing my head off picturing Jean with no hair and a stern 'do or death' expression like the Prof's. 

Good ole Charlie. 

That got me to laughing again. 

"Yeah, laugh it up." Jack muttered. Slamming the door after we entered. 

"Ow!" Not so loud. The little band in my head upped the volume when he slammed that door! Evil man! 

He quite literally dropped me in a kitchen chair and started to do the dishes. Wait, no, he's getting the dish cloth wet and bringing it back to me? When he pressed it against my forehead I yelped, it was cold water he'd put on there! 

"Calm down. It'll help." I think I smiled up at him, I'm not sure. "What on earth made you decide something stupid as this?" 

"It was Alexis fault!" Even with the slight hum in my head, I was ready to give the trouble to someone else. 

"Oh really? I suppose she held a gun to your head and made you drink?" 

"Uh, I don't remember but it sounds like a wonderful excuse." 

He sneered! Can you believe it! I didn't think he could do that! I thought only bad people could do that but here Jack was breaking the rules! "You're _unbelievable_!" 

"Don't scream!" I hissed, grabbing my head. 

"It's the _least_ you deserve!" Jack grabbed me by my shoulders, forcing me to look at his face. "Do you have any idea how stupid what you did was? God, Kerry, you could have been hurt!" 

My tears were stinging. Alexis stopped groaning from the living room. 

"Just because you wouldn't be able to find out who 'Rick' is." 

"Damn it! No! That's not the reason! What if you had been slipped something in your drink? What if that guy had been able to take Alexis somewhere before I was able to get there!" Jack's eyes were---tearing? "You could have---you were passed out in a house full of guys!" He turned away from me and stormed towards the door. I called his name out, perhaps it could have been louder but he just slammed the door. 

I winced. "Creep." Deciding that putting my head on the table was probably the smartest thing to do in order for my eyes to stop rolling around in my head, I did just that. 

* * *

When one wakes up, aches are inevitable. Throbbing, murderous headaches are not. "I feel like someone just tried to pierce my ears and brain with a jackhammer." Another nauseous wave went over me. "A malfunctioning jackhammer." 

"Try Jack Daniels." My eyes searched out the voice and there Jack was, stern face and looking rather messed up himself. "You feeling better?" 

"I had been feeling _worse_? I find that hard to believe." 

"At least you seem to have sobered up." He drew closer. "And drooled all over the table. Charming." Funny, he didn't seem to be in a good mood. I peeled myself off the chair and table and got to my feet. For some reason I was slightly---falling over. 

"Where's Alex?" Even whispered, it made my head hurt. 

"Home." He seemed to scream, but it was a normal tone. "Her parents weren't happy that a strange male brought their baby girl home plastered." He flicked his image inducer off. "Of course she did leave you a gift in the living room." 

I hiked an eyebrow (I think) and went to check out the 'gift'. I nearly added to the 'present'. Alexis apparently had lost her (past weeks worth of) lunch. All over the living room rug. 

"Uh, gross!" I shrunk back from the site and bumped into Jack's chest. 

"Going to be one heck of a time trying to clean all that out." I turned to him with a question on my tongue but I suddenly understood and stepped back from him as if he slapped me with plastic vomit. 

"You---you expect _me_ to clean this mess?" The rank smell got in my nose and I moved to the kitchen again. 

"You did the deed, you clean up the product of it." I glared at him. I knew he had a point but come ON this was someone else's mess! Why didn't Alexis clean it up? 

"What if I don't?" 

"Then Scott and Jean will know for sure. Without me telling them." He crossed his arms and got ready for a battle. Oh and trust me there was a battle. 

"What! You can't tell them! I'll clean up! I promise! Just don't tell them!" Jack's eyes narrowed, that cold look back into them. "Promise me, promise you won't say a word to them." 

Another minute and me begging him (using his name) and he caved in. "Fine, I won't breath a word to them, mentally or verbally." 

"Will you help me clean this mess up?" I tried the big puppy eyes. 

He snorted, "don't push your luck." Disappearing into the kitchen I half hoped he was going to help me. Instead he came out with a bucket of water, rag and sponge. 

"Gee thanks."

* * *

It took all Saturday for me to clean up Alexis' mess and get rid of the STENCH. I had to leave every window and door opened to let the air get rid of most of it. The rest was handled with that odor killing spray. I stayed over till Sunday when the happy couple was scheduled to come home. 

They were surprised to see me there, even more surprised that I had cooked their lunch. Little did they know it was another attempt by me to cover up the smell. After lunch, Jean helped me to do the dishes and we talked for about an hour. I'm surprised my nervous sweat and smile didn't give too much away. I lied and said I was just worried about whether or not the lunch was any good. Big fat lie, heavy on the fat. 

Scott had disappeared into the living room and since he didn't come back to ask me about the smell or the sudden wetness of his carpet I don't think he saw anything. Of course, Jean pried for information regarding George. That's when I decided to leave. 

On my way out, Scott called me back. "Uh, Kerry, before you go," I turned, nervous smile still twitching on my lips. "Can you tell me whose this is?" 

He was holding up Alexis fake ID. When Scott brought it closer, my eyes started to hurt because they increased in size. It was my fake ID. 

With arms crossed and the door shutting behind me (thanks to Jean no doubt) he gave me an evil cat grin. "Busted." 


	84. Crossed

Lucky Me Chapter 84

* * *

Author's Note: Yar, I have 85 almost done and 86 is a 'tribute' to this weekend because my dad had us watching football all stinkin' Sunday. I think it was retribution for making him going shopping with us on Saturday. Oh yeah, YEAH! LSU won! Whoohoo!! 

* * *

Jack was mad at me. My parents were mad at me. I was mad at me. I was also slightly mad at Alexis. 

At first I tried telling Jean and Scott it was all her idea and her fault. They zinged me with the whole 'responsible adult' line and how I should take responsibility after the mistake for making the mistake. So their punishment? No driver's license for me because I didn't act like an adult. The punishment got harsher when I pointed out that adults got drunk. 

For a month I would have no contact with the outside world. No going to town, going shopping and limited internet and television intake. Oh, and I lost my phone completely. That's one way to teach kids to obey, take away all their stimulating activities so they have hours upon hours to plot revenge. Smart move, big two thumbs up. 

The only good thing was that it got them (temporarily) off of the George ordeal. I doubt they've forgotten, but the buzz is that some of the household was able to hack into the Acola police files. From the files it became absolutely clear. The police hadn't a clue about _who_ had done it, though they has an idea as to _why_. Apparently Mr. Wilder owed a large sum to the wrong people or something. I figured it was another cover up. I just don't understand _who_ covered it up. 

I was sitting outside the school, waiting for Jean to pick me up. Part of my punishment was to have hardly any human or mutant contact with anyone for a month. That meant in mid-November I'd be aloud to interact with people again freely, hopefully. 

"Hey, girl." Alexis. I was well acquainted with her voice. 

Now remember, I was still slightly upset with Alexis. "What do you want from me now?" 

"I guess you're still mad." No, I normally give people the cold shoulder on any given Thursday. "I can understand that." 

"Then leave me alone." I snapped. I was being a jerk but she wasn't the one who had to listen to Scott rant and rave about getting intoxicated. 

She marched in front of me and waited for me to look up at her. "Now listen, I said I was sorry ten million times already!" Alexis folded her arms across her chest. "It's not like anything bad happened." 

Flinching, I could hear _his_ words echoing in my head when I tried that line. "I'm not suppose to talk to you." I whispered it out. 

Her eyes were neon signs of pain and then understanding. "Yeah, I'm not suppose to talk to you either." She plopped down beside me. "But is it cool? Are we still friends?" 

Faintly, I smiled. "It's cool." 

We sat in silence, her tensing up every time she saw a dark vehicle come down the road. After the third time, I finally asked what it was all about. Alexis laughed nervously. "You see I didn't exactly come clean as I should have." When I questioned her to why, she got up and started to fiddle with her pack strap. "They think I got drunk at your house. That you were the one to instigate it." 

The knife plunged so deep in my back I thought it was going to magically appear poking out of my chest. "What?" 

"I didn't tell them that. They _assumed_, I just never corrected them." When she started to laugh lightly, nervously that's when I went straight to being ticked. 

"What kind of friend are you?" I jumped to my feet, one hand balled into a fist about chest level. "To not tell your folks the truth!" 

"Hey! I would've gotten into more trouble had they known!" She went from cheery to following my hotheaded example. "It's not like it matters!" 

"Yes it does!" I braced myself for the fight of my friendship's lifetime. "Your parents probably think I'm some drunk jerk! It was _your_ idea!" 

"You went along with it!" 

"You suggested it!" I battled back through clenched teeth. "It's not _my_ fault you have to cave into peer pressure. Thanks to you I am _not_ allowed to get my license for a month!" 

"Like your Miss Perfect! So I didn't tell my parents I went to a party and had a little too much, so WHAT?" Alexis had her teeth bared like a feral animal. 

"I'm probably the last person who should be saying this, but you should learn to take responsibility for _your_ actions. I know when I had too much to drink it was _my_ choice. I told my parents the truth and they forced fed me to accept it was my fault for what happened!" Close to tears, if I didn't stop I'd end up with waterfalls. 

"So I didn't tell them. It doesn't matter. I'm punished now for it, why make it any worse than it already is? If you're so perfect you wouldn't have gotten in trouble in the first place! Talk about _me_ giving in to peer pressure, at least it took a handful of people with you it only took one!" She stepped closer to me. "If they found out about what happened--!" Alexis shook her head from side to side as if in denial. "Then they'd remind me of my brother and never let me have a life!" 

"Who--? What!" 

"I have to go!" She turned and stormed off towards the furthest part of the pick up area. Great. My one normal friend and I lost her. 

But it wasn't MY fault! 

And just to let her know I stuck my tongue out where she was last walking to. 

That'll show her who the more mature one is!

* * *

Thursday and I was watching D-M do her physical therapy. After six weeks being laid up, I guess it gets to a person. Either that or she was faking because the therapist was just so cute. 

I was sitting on an unused mate fuming like a mad Indian with my legs and arms crossed. My wings would have been crossed (if that was even possible) but they were sore and have been for a few weeks. Over use probably considering that Mr. Warren has renewed his flying lessons with vengeance. 

"You're doing wonderfully, Daisy!" The therapist, Patrick, encourage. It was painfully obvious that D-M was playing with the man because whenever he got close enough she'd have a 'weak' attack and end up plastered across his chest. 

This was the one social interaction I was allowed to participate in. Jean reasoned it would probably hurt Daisy more for me not to show up then it would hurt me. She was probably right about that. 

Chris was sleeping beside me, Adrian was tossing one of the balls up and down and Bobby-Jerk (the one who drove us here) appeared to be dead on his feet. Julie was lingering around here somewhere but who really cares? 

After Daisy fell again and she laughed nervously, which I guess guys think is cute the therapist said they had enough for the day. We were all relieved (except for me because I knew I was going to have to scrub toilets when I got back) and collected our stuff. While Daisy was busy flirting with her help, I was sent to find Julie. 

I finally heard her distinct accent coming from an office. Groaning, I sincerely hoped she wasn't trying to rob anyone. 

"….nothing we can do…" I was trying to be mutant wallpaper when I realized she was in a doctor's office holding some kind of conference. Oww, was this going to give a hint into the mysteriously annoying brat from Britain? 

"I heard that before." Julie sounded tired. 

"How did it happen? What caused this …" I couldn't hear the rest because the P.A. system wanted Dr. Red to come back to the ER. I glared accusingly at the box. I wasn't able to hear Julie's reply either because they were really desperate for this doctor to get where he needed to be. "If you want me to help, you have to tell me the truth." 

"You said you could not help." 

"There might be an experimental procedure…" I pressed closer, silently wishing for them to identify what the heck they were talking about. 

"Hey! Kookie!" 

I yelped, knocked into the door, slamming it, and twisted my own legs and landed with a thud on floor. Bobby-Jerk looked down at me with an amused grin. 

"Grace returns!" 

"Oh shut up!" I grumbled, climbing to my feet in enough time to escape being given a concussion as the door swung open. 

"Kookie?" Julie sounded confused. Good. If she was confused then she didn't figure it out. "Where you spying on me?!" 

"I-I wasn't spying!" Big smile while lying. 

"You were lurking outside the door!" She accused, the doctor excused herself from the upcoming doom. Maybe she went to get a First Aid kit, who knows? 

"A lot of people lurk outside of doors that aren't spies!" 

"Like who?" Julie crossed her arms and Bobby-Jerk started to slowly back away. 

"Like," I looked around the hall frantically with my eyes only moving. "salesmen." No, that didn't sound forced. "A-and peeping toms. Ask Bobby!" 

"Hey! Leave me out of this!" Then he said something about going to warm up the car or something like that. 

The brunette girl's eyes were literally oozing with fire. "Whatever you heard just a moment ago, forget about it. Don't say anything to anyone." 

This is when the little voice in my head reminds me that I'm her leader. "Why should I? What could you do to stop me?" 

"I will make you so lustful over _Chris_ that it'll break your little boyfriend's heart." I stepped back and she smiled arrogantly. Sometimes it was better to back down and hurt people later. 

Maybe I could talk it out of someone else? And I knew first person to try. 

One of the people who brought the darling girl to us. 

* * *

A week later is when Jean decided to hit me with something (while I was trying my hardest to avoid the George and getting drunk topic while attempting to weasel information about Julie out of her) out of the blue. 

Her parents were going to come to the mansion for Thanksgiving…if the mansion wasn't blown sky high again. This was the first time, ever, that I would face her parents. Oh and just to make it fun, lets invite my Grandmother! 

"Do you really want Arty corrupting them?" Jean told me that was a bit…harsh. Of course she couldn't have stalled any longer when she corrected me. I banged my head on their kitchen island. When I start to pester her, yet again, about Julie she decided to strike a deal. 

"You answer one of my questions and I'll answer one of yours. Deal?" Making a sour face I added a rule that nothing directly related to George. "Fine. Did you fire a gun in Washington this last time you went?" 

"Yes." I said it as not-going-to-get-another-word-outta-me as possible. It got her to stop chopping up her onions for a moment, she shook her head and went back to the things. "Where did you pick Julie up from?" 

Jean looked at me, amazingly not cutting her fingers off as she continued to steadily dice the onions. "An asylum in Scotland." 

My jaw dropped. "Shut up!" 

That eye brow rose and the knife froze. "If you don't believe me, ask her." 

"Yeah right, like she'd tell me anything but to 'sod off'." I picked up a stray onion chip and studied it. 

"Have you tried being friendly towards her? Perhaps she just needs some encouragement." 

I'll be 'friendly' with her when I grow gills and quills. "Perhaps she just needs her butt kicked from here back to her home." 

Jean only sighed.

* * *

"We have a _new_ assignment class! Isn't this fun?" The ever perky English teacher (still scary and now very pregnant). "Since all of you are going to graduate in the spring, I have convinced Mr. Poovey to co-sponsor a new, fun adventure!" She was sickening sweet in the morning. I don't like morning people in the morning. They are aliens and need to be exported somewhere. Yes, I meant to say 'export'. No, I don't know why. 

"Instead of holding a career _day_ in the gym like we have for the past few years." Which Chris told us was nothing but the armed forces trying to recruit people. "Instead we are going to have your write reports." Collective groan. "Two of them." Louder groaning. "One that is due in two weeks and another one which is due before you graduate in the spring." 

Can this get any worse? 

"You will be asked to find a job site which you can visit with for a day. And, yes, you get a day off of school for this report. One in the fall, one in the spring." Collective groan turned into cheering. "But you have to find the job by the end of this week and have it cleared with Mr.Poovey or me." 

I smiled and raised my hand. 

"Yes, Cakie?" 

My eyes rolled. Doesn't anyone know my name? "It's Kookie. And what if we already have a place?" 

"Then just clear it with me after class, okay?" 

I smiled. Boy oh boy, was a certain flight instructor in for a fun time!

* * *

"I know you're in there, Mr. Warren!" Okay, so convincing my English teacher was ten times easier than this. She was slightly disbelieving when I told her that I could get in with Worthington Industries. "I can hear your feathers ruffling!" 

Unfortunately, Mr. Warren heard the two words 'career day' from Adrian in passing and headed for the hills (or in this case, his bedroom). 

"Don't make me beg to a door!" I whined out. "I'd rather do the begging in front of someone!" That way he _had_ to see my face when I started to force myself to cry. I was desperate. 

He cracked open his door. "Oh, Kookie, I didn't hear you out here." 

Giving him my best 'liar' stare, I turned into an adorable Kookie once again. "Mr. Warren I really really need to spend a day at your company. It's for school." 

The guy's eyes shut tightly, as if he was fighting off a bad thought. "Kerry---" 

"I promise to be on my best behavior! You won't even know I'm there." I clasped my hands in front of me and gave my 'puppy' expression. Oy, there goes all my dignity. 

"Why don't you ask Hank?" 

I smiled weakly. "I did, he thinks I'll blow something up. Something important, like myself." 

He bumped his head against the frame. "What day?" 

"A week from today, next Wednesday." His eyes flew open and down to me in surprise and hope. Why hope? 

"I really can't that day. I have an important lunch date with someone who is incredibly hard to get any time with." 

"You don't have to take me! I'll stay at the office and--" I shrugged, "staple things." 

The pained sound reminded me of a dying cat. "Fine. But you better keep your promise." 

With a quick thank you I was about to leave when I asked how was the important date with. When Mr. Warren asked why I wanted to know, I answered honestly and said 'nosey'. He seemed to do that whole weighing the options thing, finally with a sigh he answered. 

"Donovan St. Loy." 

* * *

Questions, Comments and Criticisms:   
Jubes: Heh, not a dork! Trust me, if you are a dork then I gear what I must be labeled. You only read this, I write this! Isn't that sad? -sighs-   
Panda: Heh, Alexis is the one who made up the fake ids. *shmile* heh  
Cris-X: Sometimes I get too busy to write the 'blab' section or I just want to get the next part out. ;)   
WaterAngel: thanks!  
Cyborg: I never thought of it that way…  
Njong: Thanks for the support!  
Brandon: Thanks for the offer! ;)  
CiCi: The reason she's not answering about the George ordeal for reasons which will be revealed later. Heh, Alexis got two of Kookie's notebooks. One said 'Bobby' the other said 'Rick.' Yar, it's probable about Bobby but also that Adrian is experienced considering I vamped his image. Cooking with the Cajun? Heh, my dad would have some things to say about that! Heh. Through it in a pray for the best. Of course my mom, a Yankee from PA, says that if it use to move, we'll (southerners) will throw it in a pot and eat it.   
Kittenchatter: She's going to get it off screen ;) The only thing I've ever got busted for was sneaking out of the house. The hardest thing to deal with after being 'busted' is having to live with that 'we trusted you' line. Not to mention the whole 'build the trust back up' encore -sighs-  
Frozen fireball: More clues? Where would the fun be in that?  
Chez: Kerry and Jack are evolving into a steady couple ;) at least that is what I'm hoping. *eye twitches* Never quit Kerry? Heh…..  
Satori: D-M is okay! ^-^ She can't leave the scene just yet! Julie's story will unravel with time…and Jack and Kerry together forever? Hmmm  
Gaia: D-M wasn't doing this on purpose, it was a backfire to turning off her powers. I never heard of them doing it in Marvel and figured it might be plausible for someone with her powers to do. Yar, writing drunk is sometime fun, though I detest the very idea.   
The Midnight Kitten: ONE sitting? WHOA! I can't stand OC who are painfully perfect. And who do you think Jack is? I can't tell you who he is yet, but it'll be out there soon. I have the next two chapters half way complete and the next two after that are planned. ^.^ Welcome to the reading!  
Girlonthem00n: YIKES! My bro was busted for smoking after my mom found a note from his girl friend in his jeans pocket mentioning quitting. She was doing laundry and he never cleans out his pockets.   
Silvergryffn: yuppers!  
CK4: First two comments----*twitches* And I never said Adrian was Jack, so why would I say so now? *smiles* I know my spelling is sometimes pathetic, but with two betas….heh, they'll be back in action next week (I hope!) and poor them, they have 7 chapters to catch up on….scary. 


	85. Saggy Bottom Heroes

Lucky Me Chapter 85

* * *

Author's Note: My betas ARE back and alive and all. But….this is the beginning of the year and therefore they are too too busy for me *pouts*. 

* * *

Tuesday was frigid as me and Alexis brushed past each other in the hall. 

We hadn't spoken a word since three weeks ago when we had our little spat. 

She was chicken and I was arrogant, therefore we were both stubborn as mules and refusing to budge an inch. I was even so high on my horse that I sat with one of the other groups of people. Adrian's group of people. He was such a prep. And currently missing. 

Mr. Drake had caught his attention and both were slowly walking back to the table. 

"Wow!" Some girl grabbed my necklace and nearly jerked me over the table towards her. "That is so pretty." She fingered the wings and then palmed the jewel. "Where'd you get this?" 

"My dad." I jerked back. "My---boyfriend gave me the stone, though." I was blushing lightly at the word. I guess that's what he could _technically_ be called. Like I said, we've been growing closer (although I _know_ it was probably him who ratted me out with that fake ID placed in the perfect spot for Scott to find). 

"Sounds like a great guy." Uh-oh, I know that sound. The girl is about to get all mushy over guys sound! "If I had a boyfriend like that I'd kill to make sure no one else got him. What a sweetheart! How long were the two of you going out before he gave you that?" 

"Uh, a few weeks actually." That's when the duo showed up. Jack gave me a smile. Yes, that trouble, knee locking smile. 

I laughed nervously and went back to fiddling with my lunch. 

Figures. First time I talk about having a boyfriend and he would show up. If I had been declaring undying love for all roaches, he wouldn't have heard but mention him in some odd context and suddenly he's all ears!

* * *

Wednesday and my hand was once again slapped away from the starched sweater vest I was being forced to wear by Mr. Warren. "Stop messing with it. You'll irritate your skin and make it look like I strangled you." 

I groaned and rubbed it by bringing my head to my shoulder and moving it. Mr. Warren threatened to drop me off at a corner and I could write my report on the career as a prostitute. I stopped fidgeting. The limo ride was long and boring. He had dragged me out of bed to be ready by six so he could get to the office by 8:30. 

"I know what you're doing and stop it." At 8:15 promptly I almost went through the top of the roof when Mr. Warren's cel phone went off. He laughed at me for a split second before answering. 

I went to say something to him and he held up a hand to shut me up. I glared at the hand and tried to not do what my sister would always do…lick my hand. It was disgusting because she knew it would make me freak out. I mean spit is bad, sibling spit? Even worse. 

He clicked the phone shut and eyed me oddly. "What exactly does this report of yours have to be on?" 

"A day in the life of a career." I was cleaning my nails/claws and not really paying too much attention to him. "I write a report about the CEO and what he does." 

He did this funny groaning thing, he caught my attention with that noise. "This is not proving to be the cake walk you promised." 

"Huh? When did I ever promise you cake?" Again with the groan? We pulled up in front of his office building and got out. I wasn't about to let it go though. "When did I promise you cake?" 

In the elevator, we both heard something. A constant beeping something. 

"What is that?" I finally asked, annoyed. 

"Your image inducer." He said it was like it was nothing special. "Your battery must be running low." 

"Nothing weird is going to happen is it?" 

"No, they have back up power. Your image won't fade for the next ten hours." He gave me a professional grin. "I have a charger in my office." 

One terror down, who knows what else today is going to give?

* * *

10:00 am 

They found an extra spinny chair for me to sit in while in Mr. Warren's office which was the size of a basketball court. After getting fussed at for pushing off of one walls to another, I finally settled into spinning the chair like it was a ride at an amusement park. 

"Must you do that?" Mr. Warren finally asked, dropping the papers he had been reading. 

I stopped moving in order to look at him. "You know you do it when I'm not here." I twirled again. "I bet you do this all the time and really don't get any work done. You spine and read comics." 

"Comics?" I nodded with a smile. "What makes you think I read comics?" I shrugged, he sighed and picked up his reading. 

"Great big colored comics with great big colored comic book heroes." I smiled over at him, or more precisely his slightly crumpled paper in front of his face. "With nice tight rear ends." 

That got the paper to come crashing down on the desk again. "Wh-what?" 

Big eyes from me. He picked up the papers again and swiveled his back to me. 

"Not to mention they look better in their spandex uniforms." 

"Excuse. Me?" Before he could finish his thought, the phone rang. I love well placed timing. He mouthed a 'we'll finish this later' before picking up the phone. 

* * *

12:30 pm 

"This is because your obsessed with your behind, isn't it?" I cried. Mr. Warren rolled his eyes before letting them land on me. "Isn't it?" 

"No. This has nothing to do with your comments earlier." He'd been in this mood since I had mentioned comic book hero's rear ends in spandex. He even went so far as to ask his long time secretary if she thought he had a baggy behind. When the words 'harassment' came into the conversation, he made a hasty retreat to the elevators. 

"Then why did you decide to bring _her_ along?" I was majorly pouting about this. 

"Because Donovan St. Loy rarely sees anyone. Emma heard about my meeting and jumped on the opportunity since she has business with his company as well." He tried to keep it out of his voice, but I think Mr. Warren wasn't pleased about his meeting getting invaded either. 

"Then why are you brining me along? I thought you said I couldn't come." 

"When I let it slip that I had a student with me who was writing a piece on being a business man." Mr. Warren shifted uncomfortably preparing for the Queen of Ice's arrival. "His secretary insisted that the student be brought along." 

A few minutes after my answer of 'oh' went by, I turned to him again. "Do you think that secretary is going to end up fired?" 

"Yup." 

When Miss Frost got to the scene, the friendly atmosphere changed to tiger cage on fancy wheels. I mean as soon as she got in and said her 'hi' to Mr. Warren, she jumped on me like the last piece of chocolate at a PMS party for starving overweight women. 

The pressure on my brain made me flinch. She was trying to get into my head? Don't telepaths knock first? 

"Always delightful to see you, Kookie." Emma smiled faintly. "And so well protected. Tell me, how your little boyfriend is doing?" 

Mr. Warren shot his eyes over to me. I froze in place. "Stitch?"

* * *

Besides the fact that I am not a prostitute, I felt just like Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman" when she's in the fancy restaurant without a clue and with a rich guy. Except I also had a rich woman but what does she matter? 

As we walked off the elevator and right into the lap of lunch luxury, I found the young and beautiful there. Fancy restaurants are only meant for people like me to prank, not to sit in and pretend to have more than one buck on them. 

"Wow." 

"Try not to drool on the carpet. This isn't the McDonald's you're use to, Summers." No, there the company is usually more agreeable and certain body parts aren't surgically enlarged as a sweet sixteen gift. 

After being seated, Mr. Warren checked his watch. "St. Loy is always prompt. He has ten minutes." 

"Perhaps we will be the first to witness the great family of St. Loy fall. They are so flawless." There was nothing but pure sarcasm forming those words. If she wasn't such a mean old bit, I might actually get along with her. 

"What?" It was an innocent question! 

"Shall we entertain the child with the tid bits we do know about our missing gentleman?" 

"Or we could let the gossip stay in other people's mouths." Mr. Warren said with a sweet smile. 

She leaned on her fist and smiled at him like a hungry cat. "Oh, but gossip is so much fun." Mr. Warren sighed and Emma got my full attention. "Donovan St. Loy is the tenth generation of his family to run Day Saint Inc. That's not anything strange, but his secret little family is." 

"Why?" I was being dragged into her web of evil, but I just couldn't help myself. I was such a willing little fly. 

"He keeps himself and his family out of the media, unbelievably well." This was boring. I thought she was going to tell me that the guy was a cross dresser or something else as exotic and scary. "And can't be telepathically read." He was a mutant? "He is either a telepath himself or has a neural disruptor." 

Mr. Warren, ever the saggy bottom hero (like I stare!), chirped in. "I don't think putting mutant rumors out in the business world is really going to help your image, Emma." 

"And I don't think being locked in an office all day with a minor is going to help yours, Warren." 

"You know the kind of people we run with, I might go up in their estimate." I felt like finding a metal bowl, putting it on my head and diving under a table while shouting 'fire in the hole'. 

After a staring contest that should have caught something on fire (besides their tempers) Emma turned to me again. "Like I said, St. Loys are flawless." 

"I would not say we are flawless, Miss Frost. Just exceedingly cautious with the details of our lives. Both business and personal." And there was the gorgeous guy, right on time after Mr. Warren pointed it out. "Mr. Worthington." Donovan's voice was clipped and cool. Two of them shot up out of their chairs. The guys shook hands and Emma stood there like a proud rooster. 

Mr. Warren then gestured for me to stand up, which I did awkwardly. Then he turned to me. The geeky little prep school girl stuck in a sweater vest and plaid. "Miss Summers." I think I put my hand out, somehow he got it and I got lightheaded. "Always a pleasure." 

"Yeah." Even after the plane ride my brain scampered to Alaska to die happy with a frozen smile. 

Then his eyes shifted to Emma. She seemed ripped because I got the handsome, rich guy to be nice to me first. I was so going to pay for this later. 

"Miss Frost." Yikes, his voice couldn't be any more---ominous? "I do not remember asking or being asked for a meeting with you or your company." Okay. He was definitely not happy. "Though this turn of events is rather pleasing in consideration that I too have brought an unannounced visitor." 

Then just from nowhere, must be another trait of the St. Loy family, this girl was there. Ever have instant jealousy? Yeah, well I did I was the only person with out blond hair at the table. What, you thought I was jealous of the girl? 

She had short (military almost) blond hair and looked about my height. Hmph. Guess Mr. Warren wasn't the only one running around with minors. 

"I would like to introduce my sister to you." Oh thank you! "My sister, Diana." 

After the polite talk was shuffled around the girl got stuck next to me. After ordering, they cut to the chase and me and the other hostage started to count the flowers in the center piece. There were only three. No matter how many times you counted them, there was still only three. 

* * *

3:30 pm

Three flowers. Spoons don't stick to the tip of your nose easily. And my wings were visible in the glass. 

"Does lunch usually take three hours?" I whispered to Mr. Warren who only shushed me. I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. I bit my lip in nervousness. 

"Why don't the two of you children go and check out the dessert table? Put some extra meat on your bones?" Emma asked sweetly. I think she just wanted to cuss while the 'innocent children' weren't there or something. 

Diana, like a bloodhound, found the table in no time. She looked about my age as well, if not younger. "How'd you get dragged here?" 

"School report and you?" I picked an extremely large piece of chocolate cake. 

"My brother heard there was going to be a student and thought I could work as a, uhm, what is it called? Diversion if it was male or a companion if it was female. I'm so glad it was a female." She stole the whip cream off of one of the pudding displays before picking up some funky green and yellow cake. "I don't have to dress up like a cow and sing 'Baby Got Baby-Back Ribs'!" 

"Huh?" 

She waved her hand as if making the question go away. "Oh never mind. Time to get back to the business world of numb and dumb bums." 

"Huh?" Like she was really going to answer. She just grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the jail table. 

* * *

Finally, _finally_ on the way back to the mansion (after charging up my battery for my image inducer) I breathed a sigh of relief. 

"I hope you got all your questions answered." I yawned. "My report is going to be 'How Not to Die of Boredom at a High Profile CEO Lunch.'" 

"I'm sorry you were so bored, Kookie." Mr. Warren said with a smile in his voice. "Maybe you can ask Gambit if you can go on a 'job' with him." 

I crossed my arms, "Mm-hmm." 

My nightmare for school was over! No more Kookie the secretary in training! Whoo-hoo!

* * *

10:00pm 

"Go away." I muttered into my pillow. I was dead tired. 

The person came in anyway. If it was anyone but Jack, I think I would have hurt them. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Did I speak in a foreign language? 

"What?" 

"Why is Warren asking everyone to rate his butt?" 

I groaned. "Don't ask." 

"Anyway, you're needed downstairs in the War Room. They are going to talk about the bases." 

Life is so cruel. It took two minutes to get down there, figuring that the sooner I got in, the sooner I could go and leave. Taking up a seat, I wanted to cry because I knew this would be so boring. 

"First off, this will be quick because it _is_ late and three of us have school in the morning." Scott eyed those in mention. "And because some of us cannot or will not pay attention that long." Why did everyone always pick on me! Of course when he started to talk, I zoned out instantly. When I came back to earth, he was done with the recap and moving on to new information. "Cable has been able to compile enough information about the project." 

"The data I've collected from certain---sources," meaning he did something illegal I'm guessing. "The project name was 'Magnet.' Where not sure why but we do know they have concentrated all their efforts on one mutant." 

I shivered. Yeah, that nasty little she vamp. 

"She escaped, due to our efforts to contain her." I let my eyes fall to my lap. Yeah, my freaking out effort and Iceman having to save my feathery hide effort. "There was no files stating the mutant's name or past which we might be able to use. They kept transferring the mutant from one base to another. The first base was slaughtered. The second was a decoy, but the third was also slaughtered." 

We got that already, I'm still having nightmares about it. 

"But there was no indication that this mutant would be interested in _human_ blood." Stomach growing weak…"Her interest would be strictly mutant. The limited information spoke of being able copy mutant powers by consuming their blood, which is why Bobby was tasted." 

"And I have the scar to prove it." Bobby-Jerk muttered. Thanks to some fancy hi-tech thingie in the basement, they were able to heal his hand but he had a long scar on his palm. 

"Though we believe that the mutant, codenamed 'Tracker 307', wasn't responsible for the kills at the bases. There was several minutes of footage left from the security cameras. They are grainy and lack sound but they are all we have. It is possible we are facing yet another league of mutant villains." 

Jean flipped a switch on another computer monitor and this black and white movie came to life. Wait, it was the video footage. There were several people all charging towards the camera and then big bright flash, complete white and when it cleared…there was nothing but piles of ash. In the furthest corner, moving out of the frame was a leg and then it too was gone. 

"We saw that hall." Scott sounded disturbed. 

The images flickered and a new image came up. This one showed a sleek looking guy. He was expressionless as he slipped through the guys barely touching them, but they collapsed after his touch. 

This was freaky. No blood, no reason the soldiers just dropped. 

Another scene, and a blurry figure was leaning over a scientist----ripping his throat out. When the blood started to splattered and fountain out of the throat, I shot out of my chair and of the room. I turned my head but when I whip severed some guys head from his neck in a single flick---the blood---the spurting… 

I was going to puke. 

I covered my mouth and made a mad dash for the locker rooms. It was the nearest place with a toilet unless Dr. Hank wanted something disgusting to put under the microscope. 

The guys' locker room was five steps closer so I flew in there and it wasn't empty. I found my head in a toilet soon enough throwing up all that fancy food. 

"Who de hel--?" 

The door slammed open again. "Kookie!" Jack came to the rescue, finding me shacking and pale (I think). 

"What's wit de sudden appearances? You creatin' a breeze!" 

Jack hands were rubbing up and down my back, trying to calm me. "How can people do that?" My throat was raw and burning. How can people do that to others? 

"It's okay, Ker." Jack's voice was soft as he turned me around. I was crying as well. I dug my face into his shirt. X-Men do this on a daily basis? 

Who were they? Population control? 

I wanted to leave this place but there was no where for me to go. 

"I'm here, Kerry." If I didn't feel so hollow, I would have kissed him but---I just threw up two seconds ago. He was here. I was here. Oh weren't we so fortunate. 

The images of that blood going everywhere--- 

I lost my lunch again, this time, on Jack.

* * *

Post Author's Note: Really need support here -sighs-…..just because this is drawing to a close and my inspiration is slipping! *cries* No comments part because I am a bit busy this week >. 


	86. Practice Cheese

Lucky Me Chapter 86

* * *

I heard the phone ring, like I've been hearing the phone ring for the past ten minutes! 

Napping was the only thing I was trying to do and amazingly enough, that's the one time the house line was ringing off the hook. I was trying to catch some shut eye in the Rec. Room (the place has three couches and is as big as my old house ---both floors side by side---well, maybe not that big, but it was enough). Bobby-Jerk and Mr. Remy were watching some silly football game. 

The phone went on ringing. 

"Can someone get that?" I hollered. 

"WHAT?" Bobby-Jerk screamed. 

"The PHONE!" When I screamed my answer they had the nerve to turn the television UP! 

I gritted my teeth. Selective hearing always happens during football season! I didn't even know they _watched_ football. 

The phone went off again. 

Picking myself up, I gave a stern look in their direction. "PHONE!" 

"You're just as annoying as the ringing." Bobby-Jerk screamed back. 

Growling, I dropped back down and pulled a pillow over my ears. 

Another ring. 

Then another. 

I was going to strangle someone with the phone cord! 

Ring again. 

I sprung up and yelled, "Answer the PHONE!" 

Mr. Remy didn't even look at me as he answered. "Can't reach it. Too far away." 

"Don't know where it is." Bobby-Jerk shrugged. 

And still the dumb thing continued to ring. Finally fed up enough with things, I hauled myself over the couch and stomped over to the other side of the room. I waited for the phone to ring again, and when it did I hunted it down. 

"You lazy guys!" I shrieked. The phone was sitting right between them! 

Mr. Remy turned up the volume again. 

I grabbed the phone and through gritted teeth. "Hello." 

"Yes, I was calling for Nathaniel Summers." I recognized the last name, not the first. Due to a process of elimination I figured they meant the typing-like-crazy-guy in the War room. "Tell him this is----Spot." I'm going to go out on a slight limb here and guess that wasn't this woman's real name not was it an affectionate pet name since she spat it out. 

"Right." 

I dumped the phone on the table and went hunting for Cable. It didn't take long, he was polishing his gun and picked up the phone and ran off. Yawning, I meandered back into the rec room. Oh great, now Adrian was there too. 

"What was so impossibly hard about answering a phone that was _right_ next to you?" Hands on hips, I was fed up with being up. 

"Watching game." Mr. Remy replied nodding towards the television. Adrian shushed me. 

Then four more guys trooped in. 

I rolled my eyes. "But it was right---" 

"SHUUUUU!" I got hissed at from all three guys. My mouth gapped. 

"Oh well EX-CUSE me for interrupting your pig out fest!" They had pork rinds, barbeque ribs, coke cans (both empty and full), and not to mention a whole lot of other things. And isn't if funny how upholstery sudden becomes a napkin when they have forgotten what a napkin is. 

Before I could continue my ranting they all jumped up and screamed about someone making a touchdown. 

I threw my hands up in the air. Bobby-Jerk, Mr. Remy, Adrian, Adam (oh how the mighty have fallen), Mr. Logan, Mr. Warren and Scott. I screamed in frustration and stomped over to the door. 

"Hey, since your going that way, can you get me another coke?" I turned around and glared at Mr. Remy. He was trying to give me the charming smile. Smirking I turned and marched to the kitchen, grabbed a warm drink, stopped in another room and picked up some Tide. With both in hand I stormed back to the homemade football stadium. 

"T'anks." 

"No problem." I smiled broadly. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to go do some _laundry_." When I left the room, I counted to three and ducked into the room across from the rec room. 

"LAUNDRY!" 

"Dear God, someone stop her!" Then the cattle stampeded by the door. Guess they didn't trust me in the laundry room, like ever again. 

Sticking my head out from my hiding place I smirked. Tip toeing into the rec room, which was now abandoned, I went direct to the couch, fished between the cushions and pulled out the remote. Tucking it in my back pocket (after changing the channel to the Teletubbies marathon and muting it) I went back to my couch and curled up in it. 

"I thought she was going to bleach my business suits again." Mr. Warren sighed. 

"She shrunk all my flannel." Mr. Logan huffed out. 

"The girl is a Susie Homemaker from hell or something." Every dumb comment made my smile broaden. 

After a few seconds of silence and couches squeaking (them sitting down and adjusting), "Where's the remote?" 

If _only_ I hadn't busted out laughing five minutes later when they were all screaming and panicking about missing the game. From the sounds it sounded like they were tearing up the living room. The first chuckle and Bobby-Jerk pounced on me. After him, Adrian and Adam and Chris. They tickled me until I gave up the remote. 

So much for sleep!

* * *

It was three days later when I was hiding out in the boathouse. Actually, it was something I had to do since I was still grounded (one more week!). Jean stuck me with the most boring thing on earth to do, breaking spaghetti noodles into small pieces. It wasn't a real pain…unless you have been doing it for ten minutes straight. My fingers hurt and my thumb was red and pained. 

"This isn't cooking." 

"Every great recipe starts with the ingredients." 

"Tell that to a TV diner." I muttered. The door bell went off and I jumped up to go answer it. 

Swinging the door open I smiled in joy to see Adam (hopefully my salvation) standing there. "Hey! Do you need something?" 

"Uh," the boy genius was a nice shade of red as he stepped to the side. My happiness came crashing down faster than Martha Stewart's stocks. "You have a visitor." 

Alexis. I crossed my arms. Her dad was with her. His hand firmly planted on her slumped shoulder. 

OH CRAP! 

I didn't have my image inducer on! I started to back up, freaked out and upset. 

"It's okay, Kookie." Scott had his hand on my shoulders, stopping me from my retreat. "_Jean_ is taking care of everything." 

"B-b-b-b-" 

"_Everything._" Oh! Right, -ev-re-thing- now I understood! I felt the sweat stop and sigh as well. 

"Mr. Summers, I'm Moses Mickle, Alexis' father?" Scott smiled and shook his hand. The other, younger people where standing out of the way nervously. "I'm sorry, sir to be meeting again under such horrible circumstances." Dad tipped his head to the side in confusion. 

"Mr. Mickle, Alexis perhaps we could continue talking in the living room?" Jean, who appeared at the perfect moment. We all herded into the living room as instructed. Adam was excused and from the way he was eyeing Alexis, I think he was going to be back. 

"What is this all about?" Jean asked after playing the perfect little hostess and passing out drinks and everything. 

"It seems as though my daughter had finally found me worthy of the truth. You see, before, when she told me about the night she came home drunk." He eyed his daughter, she hung her head lower. "I thought Alexis has gotten hold of the alcohol at your house." Jean raised a bit, seemingly insulted. "Apparently, I thought wrong." 

He went on to relive and retell the events of the night, well, the parts that Alexis remembered. Thankfully she could briefly remember coming back to the boathouse, but only that I was there. 

The 'adults' talked about it and finally, Mr. Mickle got up and asked if it was okay to leave the 'girls' alone to say their pieces. As soon as they were out of hearing range my arms crossed and my eyes narrowed. 

"I'm sorry, Kerry." Alexis said quietly. "You were right. I had a long talk with my brother, it made everything better." 

"Micah or Michael?" She smiled like she just saw a one car funeral. 

"David." Alexis answered. 

My eyebrow rose to the roof. Who the heck was David? "You're imaginary brother?" 

"He's my older brother by two years. He----died, three years ago." 

I swear cold water struck me out of no where. What do you say about that? I mean, I stuck my big fat foot in my bigger and fatter mouth without even realizing it. "Oh." 

Alexis' eyes were trying not to tear, and I knew if she started I most likely would too. "He would be twenty now." I went to say something, but I found nothing worth saying which was worth hearing. "David was---in a car accident. He had been at a party and had too much and---well…" 

I sat still. I felt like a heartless witch. How could I have asked her something like that? Sheesh! 'Imaginary brother' what an IDIOT! It was just about as dumb as telling Cable I had a bigger gun! Dumb dumb dumb! 

"I'm sorry too, Alexis." I muttered out a few minutes later. "I shouldn't have gotten all mad and stuff. It wasn't very nice." 

"That's okay, I'm use to it." Alexis started to laugh when I finally realized I'd been insulted! 

"HEY!" 

"I'm guessing you two are done?" Mr. Mickle came back into the room and said this couldn't be a social visit since Alexis was still grounded. We said our good-byes and I felt a sliver better because I had my normal friend back. A friend who smiled at Adam (waited to take them back to their car at the mansion) and mouthed back to me 'single?'. 

Shutting the door, I went back to the kitchen. Jean and Scott were talking about something and when they turned and eyed me with crossed arms. 

Oh no, what now? 

"So, Kerry." I'm dead. I don't know what I did, but I'm dead nonetheless. "We had an interesting conversation with Moses. He says that Alexis was brought home by some strange man." I'm dead. I know why now and I'm still going to get run through by these people. The thought of the dead on the video came back to me and my stomach lurched. "He also said that Alexis said it was the same guy, she thinks who drove the both of you here." 

Scott jumped in at this point. "Mind telling us who this knight in shining Ford is?" 

Out of the frying pan and straight into the fire. 

* * *

Two days after singing and dancing around the 'Who is this Jack guy' with Jean and Dad, I was sitting in the co-pilot's seat. My hands were gripped into the arm rests, the claws helped take chunks out of arm rests. I was freaking out. 

Chris was the pilot. 

Chris was the pilot and I was stuck here with him. In the air. With the rest of the team, except Adam and Daisy. Since we were missing two of our people, Iceman and Dr. Hank were here instead. 

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" 

"Yes." Chris chopped out. "I'm really getting sick of being asked that!" 

"Let the man drive!" Julie snapped out. 

I glared at her. "I'm glad _you_ want to be so friendly with death, I don't." 

"You're faking. I should know, I can sense your emotions." Apparently she wasn't sensing my heat vision glare -o-death. "Besides," Julie muttered in a lower voice. "You're making me lovesick as well!" 

I snapped forward faster than---well, things that snap forward really fast. 

"It's bad enough I have to witness it on a daily basis. I don't really want to hear about it too." Chris shot back. 

Jack started to laugh, Dr. Hank looked confused and the other traveler wisely clamed up. Good boy. 

"What are we doing anyway? Alone?" Adrian asked after about two minutes of blessed silence. 

I shrugged, "Something to do with beating back a random and weak mutant who decided to take over the world." I rolled my eyes. "He decided to start with a cheese factory in Wisconsin." 

"Hokay, that's just stupid." Iceman added. He was suppose to be a chaperone to this little trip. Lucky him no doubt. "Anyone got a cracker for this guy?" 

"Must be the same place your sense of humor is." Chris remarked dryly. "Switching…" he rambled off in some kind of codes. Scott insisted that we report every time we flipped a switch or punched a doohickey. 

"So we are going to recruit this guy?" Julie piped up again. 

"No. We already have weak and pathetic person on this team and I doubt you want to be replaced so quickly." Chris looked smug as the flames started to appear. "Although I wouldn't be complaining." 

"Quiet." I finally took up the leader crown when I knew this would spiral down into a petty name calling fight. Chris and I were the only ones allowed to get that childish. Besides, I didn't want any one distracting him while piloting. 

* * *

"This has got to be one colossal joke." Iceman muttered, shaking his head. 

"This is not a job for us, it's a job for psychiatrist." 

"Scott has Dr. Frese on speed dial." Bobby-Jerk shrugged. I rapped him on the back of his head. "Hey! Save it for Cheese-Whiz!" What a baby, wasn't like I hit him that hard. 

"Behave you two." Dr. Hank warned. "We are here to shut this mutant down. Even though he did not pick the most intimidating of places to launch an attack, we still don't know if he is lethal." 

"What's he going to do?" Bobby-Jerk asked, hitting my shoulder lightly. "Threaten to use oil instead of milk?" 

I sighed. "We could always lure him out by taunting him." I smiled falsely. "You could be the bait." 

He lifted an eyebrow. "You're only saying that because I'm the cute one." 

"Yo, beauty pageant contestants," Chris called. "Can we get back on track?" 

"Fine then. Beast go to the main floor, make sure it's cleared out. Chris, I need you on stand by incase the head-job gets mean so you can fry the wires and kill the electricity. Julie, locate the mad man. If he is on a one man angst hit parade, he'll be easy to find. Adrian, check the second floor. Ice_child_, you get the third floor." A quick nod and of course a minor rant, and everyone went to their jobs. 

I took to the air, deciding to strike from the roof of the cheese factory. I would say 'cheesy' but that would be----cheesy. The roof was empty. I was glad. 

Going to what I guess was the door leading to the stairwell, I ducked inside (no, that was not a bird joke). 

"He's on the second floor." Blackflame reported. "My jobs done. Have fun." 

Deep----breath---counting---"Don't even think about it. Go to the second floor. Help Flex." 

She grumbled out something and then Bobby-Jerk reported in. "How come I have to take orders from someone who isn't even a legal adult?" 

"Because my maturity outranks yours." 

"That's a matter of opinion." 

"Kids," Dr. Hank cut in again. "Mission. Mutant. Save the factory. Any of this sound familiar?" 

"Vaguely." Bobby-Jerk and I replied the same time with the same answer. I slipped further into the building. It stunk of diary. Going down the flight of stairs to the second floor, I was met with Dr. Hank how opened the door and we passed through silently. __

BOOM 

Instinct opened my wings, training made me grab Beast before he fell. That explosion took out the metal walkway we had been standing on. I flapped my wings, shifting Beast's weight from one shoulder to the next, trying not to drop him. 

"No one shall ever defeat me!" This maniac started cackling, and it was that obnoxious noise which led me towards him. Bobby had an ice wall up in front of burning Julie. Chris must still have been outside, Adrian was looking down from the third floor railing. I cut upward with no warning at the same time I realized Dr. Hank. He had a one way ticket straight to the lunatic in a cheap cape's head. 

That's when a flash went off, all of us were blinded. I was flying blind and since I was I smacked straight into a vat. From the vat, I slid down (most ungracefully) and fell backwards to a heap on the ground right by Dr. Hank's furry feet. 

We got our vision back shortly. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that was his power." Bobby-Jerk groaned, climbing up to his feet. 

"There was no _him_." Beast pointed out, picking up the empty clothes. "Or he is a teleported who has now become a streaker." 

"What was the point of all this then?" Julie snapped, clearly unhappy. My head was spinning and Adrian had to aid me to my feet. 

"Practice?" Bobby-offered. This time Chris rapped him on the back of the head. 


	87. Hair Cut Ties

Lucky Me

Chapter 87 

* * *

Author's Note: Trust me, my betas are steadily working on trying to get this all completed! I have to get 82 revised up on the site. And as long as I keep getting reviews, I'll keep writing. I know they somewhat ebbed because of one or tow things. 1. Y'all no longer care 'bout the story or 2, I took forever updating…..*sweat drop* sorry! 

* * *

Two days later and Daisy finally home but not able to be put into action since she was still recovering. 

All the people on hand in the mansion were dressed up (some of them having only recently gotten back) in their uniforms and looking a bit upset. 

"It seems someone from the recent fort killings knows that we are on to them." Cyclops informed. "In the recent week, we have been sent to various parts of the world to fight what appears to be a mutant but in actuality is nothing more than a illusion." 

Everyone nodded at this. Dr. Hank hadn't been happy to know he was pried away from his research to tackle an overdone lightshow. 

"This is only to throw us off their tracks." Cable continued. "But thanks to some---contacts. We have found one survivor from the first base. One, Jalen Sweeney." 

From there, it plunged into a deep conversation about what they were going to do and how they were going to hunt this person down. 

"Cerebro." Jean finally stated firmly. 

"Indeed, it seems the only logical choice to find this man in the most timely manner." 

Timely manner my pinfeathers! They took _three_ hours to hunt down _one_ stinking man! Me and Chris ended up playing a card game at the kitchen as the others wondered about the place. In the back of my mind I wondered how they were explaining all my absences from school recently. Knowing them, they probably said I had some mental disease or something. 

Which brought me back to thinking about another mental case, namely Julie. Jean had told me she was picked up from an asylum but nothing else was said. I wonder what she did to be locked up in a padded white room? 

When she noticed me staring at her, she quickly said she wasn't into girls and stormed out of the room. Jack started laughing and I glared at him then focused my attention on my cards. Chris, I noticed, was glaring rather harshly at Jack. 

* * *

"We found him!" Jean announced happily after they had herded us back into the control room. 

"Great. Wonderful. Can we do something productive now?" Mr. Remy asked, twirling his staff like a professional cheerleader. The image of the Cajun man hoping around in a pleated skirt made shivers go down my spine in disgust. 

"Sorry, Gambit." Scott sighed then turned his attention to my team and me. "The kids get to come again." 

Oh man. "There's no objection on our part to letting you _seniors_ do this one alone." Chris folded his arm. "Just beat this guy up with your walkers or through your hearing aids at him." Scott wasn't happy and Chris wasn't noticing. "Maybe even gum him to death if you misplace your dentures." 

"Shut. Up." I smiled broadly but I shoved the words through my mouth with a ton of acid attached. Cyclops couldn't read my mind but I was making mental promises to slash and hash Shockwav the first chance I got. 

"Like I was saying before I was interrupted. The _kids_ don't yet have enough _experience_ to be left alone on the field." 

"Or alone in the house." Mr. Jean-Paul added. Guess he was still a bit ruffled about my little exploits last Christmas. Oh come on, grape and strawberry jelly is _not_ impossible to get out of carpet! 

"They will accompany us to where Sweeney is." Dad glanced over us. "Get into the Blackbird, we leave now." 

* * *

"Don't make me turn this plane around!" Cable threatened. No matter what, no matter where, kids will be kids and boys will annoy the heck out of girls. 

"Leave me alone you---you--!" Julie flustered as a orange flame flicked quickly from her shoulders. 

"Oh I'm so hurt, how will I ever survive a name like that!" Chris fired back. As long as it wasn't directed at me, I was okay. Poor Cable, Wolverine and Cyclops were the ones that had to take us. Adrian and I merely watched as our other two teammates yelled back and forth. So this is what it felt like to be on the sidelines for once. 

"It's more entertaining when Chris and you are trying to slit each other verbally." Adrian remarked, shrugging. 

Scott looked over at me, I smiled weakly and felt completely embarrassed about my 'team'. 

I wonder if he ever had days where he wanted to quit?

* * *

Being subtle with Wolverine and Cable is just about as likely as walking away unscathed from a swarm of fan girls if ever I walk away from Bradd Pitt and Justin Timberlake. In other words, it ain't going to happen. 

They found out where this 'Jalen Sweeney' was staying (a no name town of Pennsylvania) and one crashed through the window as the other went to the door. The poor man was screaming and trying to claw his way through the wall as Cable cocked his gun and Wolverine flexed his wrists, making his claws gleam. 

I was waiting outside. I figured they would have the information we came after in a few seconds and then I could go back being bored without being on guard. 

Yeah, like things are ever that easy. 

This guy must have been on the 'Mutant Protection Program' list because suddenly there were these guys from the three other rooms surrounding his! 

Scott didn't ask questions, just started to blast them to Kingdom Come (which means down the hotel hall). Chris went to frying things while I, of course, got punched in the gut by slippery number three. There was a number four but Adrian was ducking. 

As a rope like thing swung dangerously close to my head, I got a sudden memory jump. These were the guys from before! The ones from the compound video who killed all those people! The only one we got a clear picture of was attempting to get his hands on a dodging Cyclops. He was the one who killed all those people by barely touching them! 

Having such knowledge that these men were not afraid to kill, I buckled under the pressure. Ripping the peach colored skin away I let my claws flex as I dove towards the one who had the nerve to punch a girl (so what if I was brought here to beat the living crap out of him, it's still rude to hit a girl!). 

Of course the one I got was probably code-named 'Mr. Explosion' or something because as soon as I landed a good one on the side of his head, this white light shot out from his body. It didn't turn me into ash (what kind of story would end there?) but blasted me and the roof sky high. 

As I was sailing quickly to the ground, my wings opened up and an instant pain shot through the base of them. Ignoring that because I would rather feel pain than be dead any day, I made a U-turn and was making my way back to the hotel. 

There was no need for me to even attempt that. Flashy man came up to greet me. He didn't have any expression on his scarred up face and just raised his hands. I ducked (while screaming a not nice word at him) as I didn't want to chance a 'pulled' power blaze again. 

His shot went flying past me in a heat wave. I guess he was just playing nice with the first punch. In horror, I watched as the wild blaze slammed into a near by, what I'm guessing, conference building (across the street from the hotel). Screams filled the skies as I swooped down towards the hole. One thing they pushed us to remember is that the people are always more important than the problem. If there are lives in danger, take them out of immediate danger then whack the person who put them in danger senseless (or annoy them but I only think that works in certain cases). 

Hopefully my 'super strength' wasn't going to bail on me. I flew in to the building, watching as the smart people ran hastily towards the exits. A few were limping but at least they were still breathing. Flashy was still up in the sky, looking down at me with no expression. 

The huge banner above the stage read '4th annual Hair Stylist Convention of New England'. I guess crashing a prissy hair party was better than landing in the middle of a comic or anime convention. They'd probably want to tackle us mutants and make trophies out of us. 

Or they'd drool. 

"Help!" A woman screamed from behind me (where the rubble was). "I think she's stuck!" I ran to the frantic woman's side who had a fearful look in her eyes. 

"I'm here to help." I stated coldly. 

With a shaking finger, the freaked out woman pointed to a short haired brunette. Shoving some of the roof to the side, I made it to the woman's side. "I'm going to get this off of you. Just hold still." Finding a steady hold on the edge of one of the beams which use to support the roof, I heaved the heavy object three feet from the other rubble. 

"Get out." I groaned. One of my claws snapped at the base of my finger and I screamed a loud curse as the rail hit the ground once again. Yes, the woman made it out. "Run." I stated, shaking my finger, then codling it to my chest. 

Rule number one in fighting bad guys, never take your eyes off of them. This was learned the hard way. 

Flashy sent a searing white beam my way and I did the only thing I could do once I heard the sound of it coming. I grabbed the lady I had just freed and jumped/rolled under a table with her. The table turned to slag from the heat and a liquid, molten dropped on my bare wing. 

I hissed in pain, but kept from moving my wings from off the woman's body. Whether or not she was unconscious or in a state of utter shock (both were reasonable) I didn't know. She didn't move willingly as I grabbed her hand and dragged her behind me as I crawled towards row of couches in the corner. ANYTHING was acceptable as long as it was a block between Flashy and myself. 

The couches, of course, didn't last long but due to the other location I was currently hiding in with the lady, the wanna-be sun god touched down. I was currently in a bathroom, peeking through door which was being held open slightly by a piece of melted table. 

"W-who is that?" Flashy lost all my interest as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I slowly turned around to see if my guess was correct. Before my stomach could call 'surrender' the bathroom door was pried off its hinges by a powerful blast from Flashy. 

I was slammed by the door, which sent me flying. Me and Miss Door slammed into the woman (who was more likely to kill me due to a heart attack than anything else) and we all three hit the wall with a sound _crack_. 

What was _with_ this guy!? 

Pushing the door off of me, then climbing off the woman I regarded her carefully. She was unconscious but breathing normally. 

"Stop." Flashy commanded, holding up his right hand. "One hand is force, the other one is heat. Do you know which one is which?" 

The small debris clogged my throat. Coughing my way to breathe, I glared at him. "Doesn't really matter does it?" 

He tilted his head. "I suppose it does not." There was a funny tinge of an accent to his words. Raising his hand to eye level to him, his hand began to glow. My hand had been resting on the handle of the door, and when he got distracted, I got vicious. 

With a firm tug and a well placed swing, the man went flying into the stalls via door mail. I panted in pain and because of the outrageous amount of adrenaline pumping through my battered body. Clambering to my feet, I checked out Flashy's state. Snorting, I couldn't think of a better way for him to taste defeat. He slammed into a toilet (now slightly broken) and had his head back in the bowl. Since he groaned I knew he wasn't dead. 

Turning, I went back to check on the knocked out woman. Another slight dilemma. I studied her with cold eyes, my heart ached painfully as I noticed she looked thinner then the last time I saw her. 

Heather, my ex-mom, always did want to go on a diet. You know, those five pesky pounds from Christmas every year eventually add up in the long run. 

"Uhn," Heather moaned, sitting up on the pieces of wall. "W-what…" Her voice apparently passed out again when she saw my expression of cold stone disgust. She shrunk back from my presence. 

I sneered (yes, I actually can make my face contort to a sneer) and turned to leave. All the past feelings of betrayal came knocking on the door of 'here and now' and I just didn't want to deal with it at the moment. 

"Blight, come in." Cyclops' voice crackled against the silence. "Blight! Report!" 

Rolling my eyes, I tapped my badge lightly. "I'm here." 

"To the plane, we have what we need." 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." I muttered back dryly, knowing he didn't get it. 

"Wait!" Heather called to me, I didn't spare a glance back as I spread my wings. I did, however, fall to my knees when the newly blistered part of my wing throbbed with white hot pain. Not only my wing but also my shoulder. Man, it hurt. 

I felt hands, trembling, touch my wing. Lightening fast, I glanced back, stood up and started to march towards the door. To think that woman, just because she probably didn't realize I was her daughter (ex-daughter, my bad) was willing to help. 

My team looked questioningly at me as I approached via foot (slightly limping because I tripped on the sidewalk over the giant hairspray display). 

"What went on?" Chris asked. Yeah, I know he was just concerned but the glare had not gone from my face. 

"Nothing. The guy is down." I snapped this and he mirrored my 'oh-so-loving' expression. 

As I strapped in and we pulled off the rooftop, I glanced out the window towards the busted up convention building. 

"What happened to you, kid?" Wolverine asked, chomping on the end of a cigar. "Yer fingers bleeding, and you smell like blackened bar-b-que." 

"Got on the wrong side of someone's temper." I muttered in response. That seemed to pacify the man since he shrugged and went to light the cigar up. He had puffed once before Cyclops _'zacked'_ it out of his fingertips and calmly stated 'no smoking in the plane'. 

Julie was laid up on one of the stretchers and she was carted off to the med-lab as soon as we landed back at the mansion. Dr. Hank looked me over and shooed me into his little room of horrors as well. He stated very rationally that the claw had broken because my adrenaline wasn't supporting the claws, it was supporting the aspect I was using (meaning the super strength). 

After he scraped off the dead skin, announced I had third degree burns on my right shoulder and parts of my right wing, I was free to go. When I asked why D-M couldn't just patch up my nail, the blue man laughed it off saying she was enjoying her break from local healer for the time. Why ruin her vacation? I think it's because they are very weary about her limits now since she only just healed. 

* * *

When Friday afternoon came, Scott picked up Julie, Adrian and me from school and drove back to the mansion. From there we were told to 'pack our suits and a few changes of clothing'. We did as we were told without too much thought (monster of a Poovey test was just given and most likely failed). 

As we boarded the Blackbird once again, I was surprised to see Miss Ororo and Jean there as well as us. I couldn't understand why until we were half way to Texas. 

"Sweeney gave us a name and a location. He couldn't help us out too much after that." I'm guessing he's either dead or wishing he was. "'Lucky Dice' was his payoff's name." Cyclops flipped a few switches. "We traced his actions to Texas. We have a few pictures of him that will be passed around, take a good long look at them." 

"Wow." Julie stated, obviously impressed with what she saw. I peeked over the back of the seat. The grainy photo showed a longish, chop cut guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Just the simple picture screamed 'bad boy'. No wonder the little punk/goth was instantly in love. 

I rested my cheek in my hand and leaned my elbow on the armrest. This was certainly going to be interesting. 


	88. Vegas Magic?

Lucky Me Chapter 88

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about the heavy delay once again. School work is evil and demands to be done before anything else. Man, college would be so much more fun without homework and classes and stuff. 

* * *

I stepped back, arms swinging wildly in denial. "No way!" 

We had gone from Texas to Las Vegas and were currently being told what this mission would need us to do. Because I didn't like what they had to say, I reverted into child-fit-pitching gear. 

"Kerry," Cyclops said slowly, like a flashing caution light. "This is the only way to make sure we get to this 'Lucky Dice.'" 

My head was still shaking 'no'. "Can't we just call all the people in the phone book under that name? It would save time…" 

Miss Ororo stepped up to bat. "The type of man this Dice is, isn't someone who would be listed in the phonebook." 

"But listed on America's Most Wanted." Bobby-Jerk finished. 

"But why do we have to go to hotels?" I whined, Chris sighed. Well excuse me for not being happy with the idea of sharing a room with a 'senior' member! 

"Because he owns four hotels and to make sure we find him, we have to check out each one." Jean stated, picking up her suitcase from the luggage. "Don't worry, you'll be with Scott." 

"And what am I suppose to say to those who ask why I'm with an older guy? That I'm his daughter, yeah, they'd believe that." 

"Then borrow some of Julie's clothes, you'll look like a hooker and no one will touch you in fear of catching some disease." From the grunt, I think Julie took a swing at Chris. 

"This is final, grab your stuff and get moving." Scott commanded. I was stuck with him all right. Jean got Adrian, Miss Ororo got Chris (lucky her) and Bobby-Jerk and Julie were together. 

I wanted to laugh at this, really, but I wanted to first scream, yell and cry about this. 

To many, this situation wouldn't seem like such a bad thing. I mean, I would get to stay in a four star hotel for nothing and get to order room service every five minutes if I wanted. So what's so bad about this? I'm leaving Jack with another person! I know without a doubt nothing would happen, but still, the female could drill him or manipulate him. 

In short, I was jealous and possessive. 

He was _my_ Jack. 

"Kerry. Why it's daylight." Scott remarked. I shot a glance back at Jack who smiled and waved, getting a stern look from Jean and I disappeared with my Dad down the steps. 

Oh fun. 

* * *

"That was not funny." Scott told me for the fourth time after we stepped off the elevator. It was the fourteenth he had said it since the lobby. I chuckled under my breath and the bellboy just looked lost. See, when I want to be a brat I do it in spades. When we were checking in, I kept asking whether or not his _wife_ would be able to find us, whether or not his boss knew that Scott was using the company credit card to pay for hotel rooms. The clerk had raised in eyebrow and said something in another language as she threw the key towards Dad. 

When the bellboy was paid and gone, I plopped down on the bed and smiled innocently at Scott who was currently trying to find out how to get into the mini-bar. "I'm sure they're use to things like that!" 

He glared at me. 

I busted out laughing even harder. 

* * *

"I did _not_ forget to get the number." I told Scott a day later as we sat in the casino's restaurant. The casino was attached to the hotel we were staying in. The 'number' was the one to the cell phone Jean was carrying. We couldn't use the badge communicators because Scott was afraid that someone would pick up on the signal who was associated with Lucky Dice and therefore blow our cover. To prevent this, each mini-team was given a cell phone and told to stay in touch. 

The current 'discussion' was about who was suppose to get the number to Jean's phone. Scott had gotten Miss Ororo's and I had bugged Julie for hers. 

He crossed his arms. "Then what is it?" 

Thinking, I realized there was no information to retrieve. "I guess I forgot to get it." 

"See?" I would have let it slide but oh he just sounded so smug. 

"Since when did I become your secretary?" I asked, annoyed. 

"You should have thought ahead and gotten the number." 

"You have a lot of nerve giving me the 'leader' speech when you didn't do the same thing!" 

I could see the gears grinding, looking for an excuse. "I was testing you." 

Sputtering I finally was able to get out a harsh. "Liar!" I grabbed a breadstick and jammed it into my mouth. I get upset, I eat. 

"You should have thought ahead." Dad's face was doing its best not to let the grin show. It was failing. He was getting some kind of warped pleasure out of getting me all riled up. 

"And one would think your wife's phone number would be the first thing you got. I mean she's in a hotel room with a boy almost ten years younger than she is." 

"I know Jean." He reminded me flatly. 

Picking up the menu to study the desserts section I couldn't resist one more shot. "You just don't know her number." 

Another hour and Scott looking rather pale about the amount of ice cream I was able to consume in a single sitting, thought it would be better if we left the casino for a few minutes. Before all that ice cream caught up with me and I was stuck in the booth for the rest of my life. 

I was a very happy Kookie for the next ten minutes until I got stuck in the kiddie arcade because I wasn't old enough for the 'special carpet' where the people over 21 were allowed. Scott's grin was as big as day as he simply waved me off. 

* * *

It took nearly an hour to sneak past the guard (the baby sitter of the arcade) I had to sneak through the bathroom. Thankfully the dumb bathroom was shaped like a horseshoe and one side opened up to the arcade, the other side was the gambling floor. I dodged into a stall, played with my image inducer and rearranged the data until I looked just like my Grandma Arty. I had uploaded a picture of her in the inducer's memory just incase something like this ever happened. 

Hopefully no one would know who the crazy lady was. I walked out of the other side of the bathroom and got hit with a solid wall of smoke. Coughing, I waved my hand, fanning away what I could of the gray gas. Gah, how can people willing become chimneys? 

Once free of the fumes, I blinked back the tears and saw rows upon rows of machines. Yikes! How was I suppose to find, scare and freak out Scott in a place that was more crowded than the mall on the day before Christmas? 

Of course, who ever says my luck changes with my appearance needs to try living in my flesh. 

"ARTY!" I would have ignored the outburst since the casino was pretty noisy but there was one thing I couldn't ignore. That one thing was a hand on my behind. 

"AH!" I jumped away from the lech at least five feet, turned around and was ready to fight. This old man, probably in his mid forties gave me a huge grin. 

"It's been nearly a month since I saw you in this part of town!" He swung his arms wide open and started to advance on me. I panicked. "Come on and give your old buddy Cosmo a kiss!" 

Cosmo could go make out with a mirror, I dodged his attack and booked it down the aisle towards---oh great, I have no clue where I'm going but it has to be better than back there! I leaned the side of a slot machine attempting to catch my breath. Then this woman started to cuss me out about damaging her luck and told me to scat. 

I wondered around, taking corners at random just in case Cosmo thought I was playing hard to get. I can't believe my Grandma's reputation spans across more than a few states! Maybe I should have tried a different face? 

There was no sign of Cosmo, Scott, or Lucky Dice. Checking my watch I flinched and started to stress. I had about five minutes before Dad was going to collect me from the arcade. Thing was, I had gotten so turned around in this place that I didn't have a clue which direction to turn in order to book it back to the arcade. If Scott catches me in my Grandma's image he's never going to let it go and he'll preach to me for the remainder of the trip. 

Picking up the pace, I blindly winded my way through the people only to end up at the blackjack tables. Oh this was not going very well. I got to some dice throwing tables and bumped into a man. Apologizing, I noticed the blessed haven of the arcade! Breathing a sigh of relief, I started towards it. 

Until someone grabbed me. "Hold on there, granny!" It was the man I bumped. "I think you might be my good luck charm!" He pointed toward the dice which added up to 'seven'. "You stay right here." 

His grip was firm and I wanted to shrug him off and run for the arcade. I turned to the man who had me, I yanked my arm from him and was about to give this addicted gambler a piece of my mind when I recognized who he was. 

It was the Flashy guy from a few days ago! 

"Stay?" He asked in a, what I'm guessing, charming tone. 

"S-sure." I nervously studied the guy, trying to memorize his face in order to look him up in the Cerebro files later. The ice cream was about to come creeping back up my throat as I saw Scott go in and storm out of the arcade, his head swinging back and forth trying to find the elusive me. 

"Win again!" The worker announced happily as he pushed more chips towards Flashy. I kept my head down as Scott charged past the table and I should have continued to look down but I didn't. If I had just crawled under the table and died, it would have been easier. 

"ARTY!" Oh man….didn't that guy get the hint?! "There you are my little love bud." Oh gag. Gag. Gag. 

My eyes twitched in disgust as the man wrapped his arm around my waist and started to lead me off (he was pretty strong of a guy in his physical condition). Cosmo would have succeeded too if it hadn't been for Flashy noticing, grabbing my arm and tugging me back. 

"Where do you think you're going with my good luck charm?" Flashy growled. 

"I'm taking my love bud to the bar for a drink, got a problem with that ya jerk?" Cosmo tugged firmly on my other arm. I felt like a piece of winged taffy! 

"I most certainly do! She is staying with me." Tug to the right. 

"She is coming with me!" Tug to the left. 

"Don't get between a man and his winning streak." Flashy sounded threatening and tugged me again. 

"A fool and his money are soon parted so get over it!" Tug. 

They swatted words at each other for about two minutes, when both elbows popped simultaneously I shouted for them to let me go. I didn't catch my balance in time and went flailing backwards. Hitting the next table over with a crack and another funny noise, I moaned and attempted to stand up but only got to a sit up position. 

"What on Earth---?" I heard Cosmo stammer. I looked at him with one eye. The entire section seemed to have come to a screeching halt. 

"Y-You----" Flashy got out, a little less articulate than Cosmo I must say. 

I clambered to my feet and watched, horrified as busted pieces of my image inducer dropped to my feet. Oh crap. _That's_ why they were gawking. My mind broke several hundred speed limits as it raced around trying to make up an excuse. 

My head snapped up, but my mouth still hung open in shock. Trying to collect my scattered wits, I smiled and said "Ta-da!" 

"Huh?" Cosmo blinked rapidly at my image. I can't imagine was a shock factor it is to have an old lady morph into a teenager with wings. 

"I-I'm ad-advertising for the n-new magic show." I gulped. This was so unbelievably lame! I was going to be roasted on an open fire and Scott would be the one to start the fire! 

"What magic show?" Flashy questioned skeptically. I felt like busting out in nervous laughter or hoping the ground would open up and make a snack out of me. 

"T-the one, uhm, coming in December?" Then Flashy, still slightly baffled, started to clap. The clapping spread through the section as I thanked whoever was listening for dumb people. 

Bowing and quickly making my exit towards the bathroom to sneak back into the arcade and activate my spare image inducer (hey, you learn!). But there was one slight problem. Scott was standing at the entrance of the arcade, arms folded and face as red as a mad apple. 

I was going to die. 

* * *

That night my ears were in pain from all the grumbling and shouting I had to endure from Scott. But the good news is that we got contacted from Bobby-Jerk that they had found Lucky Dice. He was currently staying in Duranine, the hotel/casino/theater place Julie and Bobby-Jerk were staying. 

Cyclops had half a mind to leave me to rot in the hotel room but didn't trust me alone with the power to call room service so he dragged me along. The cab rise was filled with the 'don'ts' I was expected to follow without complaint. Since the 'magic show' stunt, he didn't want me out of his sight for more than three minutes tops. 

We arrived and joined the others for a debriefing meeting after which we separated and went to the four different parts of the restaurant. I felt weird being dressed up (it was an expensive restaurant, like a glass of water was thirty bucks or something!) and eating with Scott. 

For punishment, he also forbad me to get any dessert. I pouted like a three year old. Half way through the meal the 'Lucky Dice' guy passed our table in all his glory. He didn't look like a mass murder mastermind. He looked like a well dressed bum in need of a shave. I suppose he was kinda cute if you're in to that bad boy image. 

Scott told me to 'stay' like I was a dog or something and he followed the guy into the bathroom. I crossed my arms and continued to pout but as long as he wasn't here----I signaled the waiter over and cheerfully ordered a rather large portion of cake and ice cream. 

"Shall I bring two plates?" 

Confused I answered. "Why? I'm the only one who's going to be eating it." 

The man just stepped back as if I said I was going to eat _him_. Weirdo. I scratched my nose and waited. 

After ten minutes without Scott or food, I started to get irritated. I wanted my junk food! 

"If it isn't the magic girl." Okay, I could have lived a long and happy life without hearing from Flashy! Of course it would make sense to see him in this hotel just like it made sense to see him in the other hotel's casino. If he worked for Lucky Dice, then no duh he'd be around here. Heartless monster that he was. 

"H-hi?" I stuttered out in a high pitched voice, my fingers aching to grab a utensil and tell him to back off. Unfortunately the only thing left was a spoon. Fat lotta good that'd do! 

"I was talking to the boss and he seems to have forgotten this 'magic show' he booked. It is not a surprise really. He is often forgetful." Flashy sat down in Scott's seat. "So he's agreed to have a mind refresher course. You do what you did in the casino, and he'll probably remember." 

Yeah and Scott would remember to eat me alive! I could back out of it, but then I couldn't because then he'd _know_ I was a mutant! Although I knew he was a mutant, he didn't go around without his image inducer on in the middle of a public place. Not that he needed one, but you get the idea. 

This was a bad joke and I wasn't laughing. 

Flashy seemed ticked about something though. "Are we on one accord?" 

I was going to die. 

"Uh---" I couldn't have been anymore relieved with IceSculpter boy waltzed up. 

"No, we're not." Bobby-jerk said in a serious voice. "As her agent, I must say 'no'." 

Flashy's attention went to Bobby-Jerk and my attention went to looking for the nearest escape route. He went into some foney shpill about being my agent and how Drake Roberts never got taken for a fool and blah blah. 

With a quick nod after having enough of 'Mr. Roberts' non-sense he left without another word. Thank goodness. 'Drake' sat down and smiled. "Tell me just how grateful you are." 

Crossing my arms because I still didn't have my dessert I gave him a bored look. "Maybe I wanted to perform." 

"How do you get yourself into these messes anyway?" 

"By being dumb enough to wear an 'X' in public." He cocked an eyebrow and the other one soon followed as Dad made his glorious return. 

"What took so long?" I pestered, thought about it, held up my hand and said I didn't want to know. 

"I'd---rather not discuss it. Get back to your table Drake." Wow, all without taking a breath. Skidded off a question and gave a command, no wonder this guy was in charge…yes, I'm mentally sucking up. Because I saw the waiter come loaded down with two trays worth of dessert just as Dad sat back down. 

* * *

It took another day but finally Scott was able to talk to this 'Lucky Dice' guy. This was the distraction everyone was waiting for. Chris and Storm broke into his office (her for the breaking, him for the hacking) while the other five of us were the look outs. Jean kept mentally 'tapped' into the security guard's minds to make sure they didn't get wise. Bobby-Jerk was at one post and he divided me and Adrian up to also watch. 

Don't ask me where Julie had disappeared too. 

Bobby-Jerk had caught Lucky back stage and therefore, I was forced to look like a show girl, complete with costume and my wings were pointed sky-high in an effort to 'blend in'. No, before you think it, I didn't get tricked, dragged or elected to go on stage. Something went wrong at the office and Storm called for backup. 

Jack and I were to abandon our posts to get to the top floor as quickly as possible. Of course, me being the graceful creature Bobby-Jerk usually accuses me of, I tripped on the second landing and bruised me knee. "Great. Hurt and I haven't done anything yet." 

Hands under my arms picked me up and I heard Jack laugh behind me. "Come on." 

We got to the top of the stairs. My knee hurt, my wing and shoulder still hurt and I had just did the mad dash up ten flights of stairs. Thank goodness this Lucky guy didn't keep his office on the top floor. Jack and I paused for the briefest of moments to gasp for breath. 

BIG MISTAKE. 

In that short span of Jack reaching for the door handle and turning it. This white and red flame grew out from the other side of the door. I would have screamed but I found out it wasn't actually burning. My mind was growing foggy and my body suddenly didn't hurt so much….and Jack was looking really….good……like _really_ good. 


	89. Heart Flutters

Lucky Me

Chapter 89

* * *

Author's Note: Don't worry guys, not much longer and you'll have no more questions or fan fiction to read! *smiles*

* * *

I was blushing like mad for the rest of the week. Every time Jack and my eyes would meet, we'd look away quickly and I'd feel slightly flattered, slightly insulted. In the middle of study hall with 'Mr. Drake' I can't help but let my mind drift back to Las Vegas and the stair well. 

Remember that red and white flame? Yeah, well, big surprise it was one of Julie's emotional flames. Apparently her 'fancy' on Mr. Dice had climbed to mutiny. She was working for him in the respect of keeping us (Jack and me) away from the office. 

She threw 'lust' flames at us. 

Man, I was so embarrassed. 

Okay, to clarify. We just got hit by this lust flame wave thing and then, as we were shaking it off, we looked at each other and the next thing I knew---we were kissing. Not a innocent kiss like most of ours have been, but his went ten times deeper involving tongues and yeah, well, you get the idea. Did it stop there? No. It. Didn't. 

It took Scott about four minutes to get to where we were and by that time, I was pressed against the wall. Still fully clothed, thank heavens, but barely. Jack's hands apparently had a mind of their own and I had no mind because I didn't stop him. I was doing the same thing. 

Scott's appearance was such a blessing. When he reached the landing we were standing at, he instantly started to shout at us. When it had little effect, he pried us apart and shot the door down with his eye beams. This successfully also took Julie out because she was right behind the door. 

Now do you see why I am still blushing like a mad rabbit? 

I hadn't even thought about something like this----and now….now I know it's a possibility but I'm still fervently against it. I'm too young for these kinds of thoughts! But it is a reality. One I might have to discuss with Jack, to make sure we understand each other in this decision. 

Ick, I hate feeling like a grown up!

* * *

Julie was severely punished. No, she wasn't raked across the verbal coals, but I bet she wished she was. She was forbidden to go on any more missions until something was made sense of. Why had she acted out in the way she did? Why had the X-Citers Blackflame backhanded us? 

D-M was standing beside her choice, and begged someone, anyone, to listen to Julie's reasoning. To make sure it got across as logical! 

I was almost in tears fighting with her, just thinking about how trashy I must have looked. Scott finally accepted that it was Julie's fault Jack and I were all over each other. Jean wasn't so willing to believe it until Julie made it quite clear that no one else would be capable of such a manipulation of wills by sheer emotions. 

Dumb girl just kept digging her grave. 

* * *

Another few days later, I was flipping through the TV stations when Mr. Remy walked in and dropped the phone in my lap. He smiled down at me and I glared at him as I remembered a certain event when he lost all knowledge of what a phone was. 

"Oh sure, now you answer the phone." 

He waved me away, "it's for you. Better talk to the person, non?" 

Grumbling I answered with a baritone 'hi'. 

"Dear Kookie," my blood suddenly started to scream warning. "How are you, darling?" 

Thoroughly freaked. 

"This is your Auntie Emma." 

And disgusted. 

"I was wanting to have a bit of a chat." 

Slowly loosing feeling in my brain. 

"About how much I simply adore your company." 

The heart monitor is flat lining. 

"And how I much I wish for us to have another tête-à-tête." "How does lunch on Saturday sound, dear?" 

"Sorry, can't. My funeral's on Saturday." 

There was a slight pause and the sound of me slapping my forehead. I hadn't meant to let that last little comment to be verbal! "I beg your pardon?" 

"Who is this?" I questioned, my ever suspicious mind running around frantically as if it was on fire. 

"Emma, dear." The 'dear' was said as if she really meant 'dummy'. "Emma Frost?" 

Like I know a lot of people who call me 'dear'. "How am I sure?" 

There was a sort of funny noise from the other side of the line. "What reason would I have to lie, child?" 

Man, if this was a joke, then they got her uppity attitude down to a 't'. "Uh," yeah, that's a way to impress someone. 

"As I was offering, would you care to have a little luncheon with me this coming Saturday? I'm sure you would love the place I am planning to attend." When the mortal enemy of all woman kind in a tight fitting shirt and stilettos asks you for a 'lunch date' there is only one intelligent thing to do. 

I held the phone away from me, clicked a button and set it on the table. 

Yes, I hung up on Emma Frost. I guess I was in shock. Why on earth would that woman want anything to do with me willingly? What, did she have a crush on my dad or something? 

That is just twisted and wrong by the way. 

If that was the real Emma, than man was she going to be doing an excellent impression of a bull in heat without a cow. 

"Who was that?" Bobby-Jerk asked, stealing the remote (because I was still watching the phone as if it was going to grow legs and dance around) and flipping the channels. "Well?" 

"I----don't know." Settling back in the couch, I stared at the phone accusingly. 

This was just so weird. 

* * *

Another day slipped by and I was fiddling with broken pieces of a vase that got on the wrong side of my temper when I had tried to throw it at Chris who laughed and ducked. That perverted jerk. He kept annoying me about the Jack issue and kept going on and on about how at least I was too fat to ever truly show if I was pregnant. I threw the inn table at him next as I screamed that I was still a virgin….and wouldn't you know that's when a herd of people had come into the dinning room. 

Professor took one look at the broken plates, wayward silverware and cups scattered all around Chris' current location and sighed. But when he saw the dumb vase, the man turned into a speechless, pale devil who kept reminding us that this vase was a gift from a dear friend. 

Jean worked into me and Chris laughed. Miss Ororo worked into Chris and I smirked. 

About time he got in trouble for always getting me into trouble! Evil, mean hearted boy! 

It was during this delicate operation that Mr. Warren and Mr. Jean-Paul came into the kitchen (my workspace) and started to ask me a bunch of weird questions just like Emma. 

"You agreed to go with Emma?" Mr. Jean-Paul asked, seemingly disturbed by the trashed vase (or the fact I was holding super glue and more of the pieces were sticking to me than to the base of the thing). 

"Huh?" 

"Did you agree to do anything with Emma this Saturday?" I blinked like a new born rabbit. "Try to remember, Kerry. This is really important." 

Swatting my hands away, Mr. Jean-Paul picked up a piece then in a blur of motion (and some mild ripping of my skin to get the pieces off) the vase stood proudly in front of me once again. My mouth dropped as he smiled that self-satisfied way only gay men can. 

"It took two hours to get as far as I did…" 

"Did you agree?" Mr. Warren stressed, taking my shoulders and forcing me to look at him. I winced as my still feeling shoulder flared with hot pain. Seeing my facial expression change, he took his hands off of me but still pinned me with a steady, warning look. 

"To what?" My mind was still green with envy and white with shock about the miracle repair job I had just witnessed. 

Sighing deeply, Mr. Jean-Paul gave me the eye. "Did you or did you not agree to go with Emma to a luncheon this Saturday?" 

My mind tried to put pieces of the fragmented conversation back together. "Yes?" 

I swear Mr. Warren turned red (and for a blue guy, that's a pretty nifty trick). "Which one?" 

"I hung up on her. Does that help?" I was so unsure, I mean here I sat next to the precious vase of Professor Xavier's and they seemed to be loosing their tempers. The way they looked at me, then to each other I thought I was going to have to beg for them to hurt me and leave the vase alone. If they had a temper like mine, then they'd look for things to throw or things to destroy once the person's back was turned. 

When I realized they were still staring at me, I started to get even more nervous. Switching my eyes from the blond to the white haired man, I could almost see their brains clanking. My suspicion was mounting quickly. "Uh…?" 

"Kerry," Mr. Warren smiled, trying to be charming. "How would you like to come with us this Saturday instead?" 

Now I knew I was dubbed as dumb or dead. What was so important about this Saturday? Halloween was Wednesday, last Wednesday on top of that and here they are trying to be charming and stuff? 

Little no-body me being asked by the rich and powerful? Is this a dream or some type of side effect of my sore wings? 

"Why?" 

Mr. Jean-Paul must have had a lot of need of me because he crossed is arms and smiled down at me. Okay, I was thankful he put the vase back together (jealous a little still but happy) but that didn't give him the right to leave the little box of 'cold indifference' that I had put him in. "Because we hardly get the time to talk." 

Lie. 

"We're doing it now." I pointed out, not buying this whole 'let us be buddies' mode of operation. 

They both exchanged looks. 

"Do you have plans?" Mr. Warren asked. 

Me? Have plans? You've got to be kidding. Alexis is still grounded, Scott is still not talking to me because of the whole wrecked dinning room thing and Jean said to stay away from the boathouse after I accidentally cleaned the windows with Pledge. 

"Maybe." An escape route! 

"We are going to be having a minor party with the St. Loys." ….and this involved me how? "For some odd reason, his over active sister enjoyed your company and wanted you to attend." Mr. Jean-Paul looked as if I was pulling the caps off his teeth or something. "If you show up with us, he will probably be more amiable towards us than before." 

I looked at the vase, then back towards the blue eyed men. 

I sighed. 

* * *

I'm not even going to discuss how Saturday went. It was long and boring. Diana didn't even show up so I was stuck with these bossy people who were trying desperately to kiss up to each other. Ick, business people. 

But on Monday something interesting did happen. Darcy called. She calls from time to time or writes e-mails. It's mostly about what she is doing in the new church she is a part of, or how much she likes this new guy John Something-to-with-fire. But this time, she had been crying and sounded like someone had just set a kitten on fire (and trust me, I like cats but I have been trying to think of someway to get rid of Lucifer that would fulfill my need against the vile feline and also look like an accident. So setting him on fire was out of the question.). 

Jack had been lounging in my room for whatever reason and answered my phone. I would have to grip at him for that stupid move later. What if it had been Scott? OR JEAN?! Scary. But it was Darcy, and after I got the phone, her voice threw my fear on high alert. 

"K-K-erry." She cried. Something inside me chipped away. 

"Darcy? Darcy, what's wrong?" I was panicked, and because Jack is not a complete idiot (or any sort of one for that matter) he started to pay extra close attention. 

"I-It's Grandma!" Darcy's voice broke, my heart followed suit. "Kerry she's had a heart attack!" 

My head swirled, my vision blurred and somewhere in the distance I could hear a voice crying out my name. 


	90. Anger Abandoning

Lucky Me Chapter 90

* * *

Author's Note: Hey guys, I stepped up the time table so the story is going to be significantly shortened. Why? Because the serious lack of reviews. I'm lucky to get 8 when I use to get a steady 15! Wah! Anyway, the next chapter is really really important! Hope y'all stick around for the ending!

* * *

High kick, while in a crouch and I knicked her in the shoulder, pushing her back with a grunt of pain. To my feet and then to the air, I spread my wings and glare accusingly at my teammate, Blackflame. 

She gritted her teeth and held her bruising shoulder under of her other hand. "What is your problem _now_?" Julie picks up on emotions better than anyone because she is an empath. So when I need someone to help me with my mind, I go to her. Why not Jean? Because the mind and heart are interlaced and to straighten out the stronger of them is more important. Since my mind has no hope of ever being normal, I have to rely on the second half of the pair. 

"You tell me." She knows what I'm talking about because I made a deal with her. Blackflame was able to take off the dampers (not a complete power cut off, they destroy D-M's after that scare a month or so ago) and let her 'feed' off my emotions. 

Over the rim of her sunglasses, prescription I found out, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're dripping with fear, you coward. Blech, 'love' you pathetic trollop, and something else that I can't rightly detect because it's so repressed." 

Hmm, fear. Arty, my grandmother who supposedly had a heart attack about a week ago. I have been searching high and low for her since. The Professor offered to look when I couldn't, seeing as how I wouldn't be able to concentrate until I found her. 'Love', puh-leese. Like I'm in love---like, not love. Love is scary. And something repressed? Ha! I invented that concept. 

Swooping down, I grabbed her as she went to flame me and dragged her up in to the air with me by the shirt of her uniform. I'm not sure a tube top is really classified as a shirt, but at least it covers the important parts (barely). 

"Let me go!" She demanded. I level myself off and look at her then the floor. 

"Do you really want to be drooped on a metal floor from forty feet in the air?" 

She looks down and pales (and since she already resembles the undead, it's pretty impressive to know she can look even whiter). "I--I guess not." Then Julie gets her, excuse the pun, fire back and she struggled against my grip. "But let me go dammit!" 

I throw her up in the air and she screams as she goes up and then quickly starts to plummet. Several ticks later I stopped her from splating on the ground and carried her back into the air and then safely to the ground. She was shaking and gasping for breath. 

"Ready to talk yet?" I asked, rather smugly. So smug in fact I didn't see her change in attitude as she glared, then leapt on me, causing me to loose my balance and fall hard on to the floor. Julie started to punch me in my sore shoulder, and around my ribs and the like. 

"TALK?!" She screamed, enraged. Her flames licked my face, my mind, my conscience and suddenly I could only focus on the rage. The hate. Before she had a chance to blink, I threw her off of me and into a nearby wall. 

Growling, I climbed to my legs, wiping the thin line of blood from my lips as I glared at her. Julie moaned as she moved, attempting to find some comfortable spot in order for her to nurse herself back to semi-decent fighting health. 

"BLIGHT!" Cyclops screamed from the open door. Hmm, didn't see him standing there. I guess our time was up in the danger room. He came thundering over to me. "What is the meaning of this? First I hear that you have released her from her cuffs and now I find the two of you in some elementary slap fight?" He looked angry. He only looked what I still was. 

Julie's flames have a habit of lingering. 

"Did Professor find my Grandmother?" I asked, unconcerned by the amount of painful noises that were coming from the lump of pale flesh behind me. 

"No." He crossed his arms. "But you aren't leaving until---BLIGHT! Get BACK here!" 

* * *

I had been lectured all day about beating up on Julie, no matter how often I tried to tell them that she started it by pushing me to the ground and then punching me mercilessly. Of course they said I should have been the mature one. What that means I can't even start to guess. What? Was I suppose to lay there and let her beat the living (and dead) snot out of me for the sheer enjoyment of knowing I was the mature one? 

Like heck. 

Anyway, and then, once the preliminaries were finished, came the semi-finals. It was with Jack. We got into a fight because of my lack of wanting to 'discuss' things. It just escalated from irritating to petty with our remarks. Drudging up the past and throwing it in each other's faces. 

After that, then came the finale. Stupid me went to Scott and Jean for a hopeful escape only to find out that they had gotten a hold of my latest report card and were appalled by the less than sterling grades. When I brought up the point that if they would stop pulling me out of school to chase phantom cheese men and Las Vegas card sharks I would probably do better---well, lets say Mr. Bishop would probably have lost his lunch at the messy happenings. 

"Your grades are the most important things right now!" Scott, Dad, argued. 

"Then stop making me run around like a demented chicken and let me go to school!" I yelled back. I was sick of being yelled at (aka I was in a bad mode) and had to vent some how. "It's not like I asked you to make me become some spandex wearing freak!" 

He gritted his teeth and leaned in for leverage. "Would you rather have been wondering the streets without anyone to depend on?" 

"It's better than being stuck here with _you_." I fought back, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "You're ruining my life!" I screamed at him in a fit. Jean had been silent, watching as we bashed each other. 

"What life?" Scott asked, his words were chiseled out in stone. I was shaking I was so mad, without another word, I turned on my heels and stormed out the door. 

That was three hours ago. 

Back in my room, and searching frantically throughout all my files of Grandma, I was slightly shaken when my phone rang. Picking it up, I wanted to snip off some sly remark but refrained. I was having people problems today, I didn't need a telemarketer telling me off as well. 

"Yeah?" Less than eloquent, but come on, this is me. 

"Look in Vireshame." And then the voice was gone. My brain tried to point out where I had heard that voice before, but I couldn't for the life of me. It was so quick and everything that I had to repeat the phone conversation in my head. 

I hung up the phone. Staring at it like it was going to come to life and eat me and then typed in the word the 'mysterious voice' had told me to. I felt slightly James Bondish with freak hints and telephone calls. When I found 'Vireshame' it screamed my Grandma. It was a suburb of a large city about a half a day's ride from Westchester. There was a hospital called 'St. Mary's Hospital.' 

Getting the phone number I called and asked for Miss. D'mon and they said she wasn't able to answer the phone. At least I knew where she was now. 

It took me all of five minutes to pack but I did find one problem. If I didn't want everyone to find me two seconds after I leave, I had to get cash. 

Thinking it over, I went to my neighbor. I would have gone to Jack, but I was still less than talking to him. I wasn't even _looking_ at him today! Creep. 

Chris wasn't asleep. I don't think he ever sleeps (except for in class at school, when he use to go). He answered the door, his eyes were blood shot (from lack of sleep) and his hair was in a state of disarray (from lack of hygiene). 

"What?" 

"I need money." His eyebrows shot so high I was sure the ceiling plaster was going to come crumbling on his head. 

"You and fifty million other people. What's your point?" After slipping by him into his little pit of chaos (his room) I started to lie but he stopped me by saying just what a horrible liar I was. 

"I can't help it I'm too innocent to be swayed to the dark side." Chris snorted at that. 

"Right, that's why your wings are _black_. Oh so holy one." 

I felt my brain bit at my sense, calmly trying to tell me that I was practically flirting with my friend. "So I'm a unique kind of innocence." He rolled his eyes and sat back down in front of his computer. "But I do need some money." 

"I'm not supporting your habits." Chris retorted lamely. "Go to your precious boyfriend, Kerry." Oh, yeah that was warm and cheery. 

"Come on, Chris." begging, I was begging now. "He is asleep and I don't want to wake him up. But I really really need just, I dunno, forty bucks or something." 

"And what makes you think _I_ have any money?" 

"Well I figured because you hardly left your room, didn't have a girlfriend or a sense of cleanliness that you would have a bank in here." 

He swiveled around and glared at me. "And you _think_ I'm going to give you anything after saying something like that?!" 

Dummy! Dumb, dumb girl. Okay, begging wasn't working. Maybe flattery would? "But you are such a kind and forgiving person. You know that I'm not too good with words and you have such a generous heart--" 

He picked up his wallet, got money out of it and stuffed it into my hands. "Get out of here before I get physically ill and psychologically scarred." 

On impulse, I hugged him. 

Chris' face was pure shock, then wrapped in a thick rosy blanket. Saying a quick good-bye, I left speechless there. 

* * *

"Do you know the man in the mask?" This old drunk guy asked, pointing to a picture in his wrinkled newspaper. I smiled weakly and went back to ignoring him. 

This is the punishment I get for riding a Greyhound bus at five in the morning. 

I wasn't running away. Though trust me the thought was oh so tempting. I would more or less call it a retirement for a day. After all, know one knew where I went. Hopefully they wouldn't get too mad---oh wait, they already were furious. Darn. Oh well. Guess that takes care of that. Heh. Anyway. 

I just had to know if Arty was all right or not. I suppose I could have asked someone to drive me to see her, but come on, eight hours in the same car with the people who are looking at me like I belong on the menu of KFC at the moment? Yeah right. 

I'd rather be stuck on a bus with a drunk that smells of onions and oranges for eight hours. Oh wait, I am. Guess I have that covered as well. How did I get so lucky?

* * *

After getting off the bus the first thing I did was find a bathroom that had been cleaned within the last ten years. The town was small and reminded me of Mayberry. There were these kids laughing and peddling down the street. The teenagers seemed to be springy and in need of a chill pill. I mean really, who gets all frantic about a guy with long white hair on an ANIME magazine cover? 

I got directions from the lady at one of the cafes and I set out to find the hospital. 

By the time I got to the glass doors of St. Mary's I was frantic (sleep deprived minds often go nuts and do crazy things like worry). The nurse looked at me like I had sucked all the hair off of her patients and was now wearing it like a nose. 

"Do you know where Arty D'Mon's room is?" I asked quietly, finding my worry and anxiety catching up with me. They had to know I wasn't there by now. What would I say to my grandmother? What would I say to Scott and Jean? 

"_What life?_" I screwed my eyes shut, trying to block out that horrible line. The nurse must have thought I was really upset about my grandmother and had enough sympathy on me to take me to Arty's room. 

I couldn't move past the doorway. Never in my life did I ever remember grandma looking so white, so lifeless. Tears wouldn't listen to reason as they fell. Somehow I thought it was a joke when Darcy called me telling me that she had had a heart attack. But here she was, the vixen I called my Grandma---not smiling, not moving and breathing through a tube. 

My knees wouldn't stand for shaking so much and I met the floor. Tears overflowing and my whole body trembling like a leaf. The nurse, who was long gone, said she had to do something. My mind throbbed with pain as I inched my way up to my feet once again after a long time on the floor. 

Edging closer to her bed, I gingerly reached for her fingernail polished hand, bowed my head and concentrated on trying to remember how to breath. 

I don't know when, but someone came in and started talking, making me jump slightly. Puffy red eyes turned to the man. The police? 

"Hi, miss. I'm officer Mark Schwalem." I went to tell him my name, but my voice broke and he just nodded. "You a relative?" 

I nodded my head slowly, my heart was tearing itself up inside me. 

"Granddaughter?" 

Again, I nodded. 

"Thought so." That's probably why you guessed that. I sighed inwardly, wanting to be alone with this woman. "Maybe you can answer a few questions? It's important to the case." 

"Ca--se?" I cracked out. "W-what case?" 

He seemed dumbfounded. "Didn't anyone tell you?" I was here wasn't I? "She was stabbed in a mugging while walking through the local park." 

Quick thinking cop helped me find a chair before I tumbled back down to the ground. "S-s-tabbed?" New tears ran down my face, and splashed on my lap. The shaking got worse, my heart had ruptured a while ago and was now useless jelly in my gut. 

This was just like when Dad---- 

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. She was walking home from a bar, the Hopper, when she cut through the park. Witnesses say that she was attacked in the dark. There is not accurate description of the person. Do you know anyone who would want to hurt your Grandmother?" 

I gave him a blank stare. Why was he pumping me for information given the state I was in? "I-I don't talk to her much." Now. "I live in New York." Go. "Not here." Away. 

What he said I wasn't sure, but he shut the door behind him. The eerie glow from the machines pumping life into my Grandma illuminated the room. There was a couch on the other side of the room, one of those small uncomfortable things but it's amazing how little importance comfort is at this moment. 

Curling up on the old, worn cushions I cried myself to sleep. 

* * *

"Kerry?" A voice brought was trying to kill my darkness, the numbness of my pain. "Come on, wake up." I knew that voice, it was friendly and familiar. "Please?" A voice I missed. 

"Darcy?" I asked, blinking away the blessed sleep and trying to push away the heartache that thudded in my chest as soon as my memory recollected itself. Instead of doing the 'rational thing' and calmly asking her to explain several hundred things, I sprung up and to life. On my feet I grabbed her arms and forced my, thankfully, still shorter little sister and grinded my teeth. "Why didn't you tell me she was attacked?" 

My sister's eyes were wet with tears, she tried to choke out an answer but her sobs were preventing from any words making sense. She bowed her head and cried harder. My tears were starting form as well but I suppressed them. Drawing her closer to me, in a loose hug, I held her as she cried. My eyes were dry for the time being. I couldn't cry, I had to be the strong one. 

I always had to be the strong one. 

Clenching my eyes shut, I fought off the resentment at this thought. It was who I was. No matter what I felt, the others had to come first. It would be the death of me, trying to always protect the others from the world. 

My wings reacted without my knowledge as they too wrapped around the both of us, trying to shut out the world and make a nice, safe cocoon of black. 

"It's okay," I whispered to my sister as she wept. Deep in my gut I knew it wasn't, but she didn't need anymore pain. 

The heart monitor continued to bleep in the back ground. 

* * *

Two hours later, around ten at night on Thursday, Darcy had managed to tell me the whole story. Apparently Heather hadn't given her all the details, only that Grandma was in the hospital and she wasn't doing too well. My sister automatically thought it had to be a heart attack, thus the reason she had said as much to me. 

Normally this town was real quiet, and had nothing going on. Apparently, this is where Heather had moved. Why on earth would she move closer to where I was knowing I was in New York now? I thought she'd move to China or something to get away from me. 

"Mom's been acting really, really weird lately." Darcy whispered, "I think it's 'cause Grandma doesn't like her very much." Like she ever did. I glanced at the pale woman in the bed and gave a sad smile. Arty was very honest with her opinions. When she was mad, she screamed. When she was sad, she'd cry and eat enormous amounts of chocolate (oh you knew I had to get it from someone). 

"Maybe." Then I checked the clock, ten thirty. "What are you doing out by yourself anyways?" 

"Anyway." She corrected. Sheesh, even in the middle of a crises, I'm being given grammar lessons. I would have made a face if my heart hadn't slumped even further in my stomach. "Mom works nights at a restaurant downtown." 

"She's not cutting hair anymore?" 

Darcy went stiff. "She said something happened at the last convention she went to. She saw a bird girl and thought that the hair cutting business was no longer safe." 

Anger sent a jolt through my heart, causing it (and my stomach) to growl. 

My misbehaving body got a small laugh out of the girl. "Guess you're hungry." I guess I was. I didn't know anymore. I just felt like a puppet, I was getting my strings pulled but there was no heart in my motions. 

"Yeah." 

"You can come home with me and get something to eat." My fear factor kicked into high drive as a flashing red light danced around frantically screaming. 'Home'? Where _Heather_ could be? My sister's eyes were large and doing that 'puppy-dog' thing. She really must have wanted me to see the house. 

"I--I don't think it would be smart." It was the truth, I think Heather has a restraining order on me. 

"Please? I have to go home to get my homework and I don't want to be alone on the streets. Not after---" Her eyes flickered towards the bed. I knew what she meant. After Dad died, I didn't want to go near the woods or any type of truck. "And mom won't be there, I promise! She works from nine to four." 

Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to think of something to say. I guess this simple request wouldn't hurt. Just this one time. 

"Okay, lead the way." Darcy smiled like the young teenager she was. I put my hands on my hips and smirked. "Your big sister will protect you!" She laughed at my odd 'hero' pose and I felt a small smile trace my lips. 

Famous last words. 


	91. Coming Home

Lucky Me Chapter 91 

* * *

_"Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling."_

I couldn't move or breathe, but I could think. Hazily. I could hear though, the soft, broken sobbed out song of my sister as she rocked me back and forth in her lap. 

She thought it was going to be safe. 

Safe, what a joke. Just like my life, just like this situation. 

Like an idiot I walked into this home. 

My eyes open watery, wearily. I can see blobs of color in the darkened room. The blood is everywhere, being soaked up into everything. Isn't it funny how blood looks black in the moonlight? 

_"Calling for you and for me."_

We had been so carefree. So happy. Darcy and I were walking through this tiny town she now called home. It was nice, sorta like Salem Center but without the spandex. 

When we got to the house, she smiled up at me and said that everything would be fine. I guess she could read my uneasiness. 

I had every right to be. She talked me into turning off my image inducer because my wings were just 'oh so cool' once we were in the safety of the house. 

The house was empty, like Darcy promised. She showed me around the two-story home. Cheerfully Darcy pointed out every oddball thing. Her room dripped with young girl motifs and stereotypes. 

After we ate, I had a bad feeling. A horrible thought. I wanted to get back to Arty. She was the reason I left Xavier's in the first place. It wasn't for pizza and coke with my sister. 

Some last meal. 

I can hear Darcy scream my name in her broken way as she shakes my shoulder lightly. 

I wonder if becoming numb to the pain in my back is a bad thing. 

We never saw it coming. My sister had been checking the answering machine located in the living room when I felt the butcher knife lunge into my right wing. 

So much pain and shock, I could only turn around and stare in horror. 

_"See, on the portals he's waiting and watching."_

Is this how dad felt? So betrayed, so shocked and disbelieving yet so relieved? 

Darcy hadn't been hurt I don't think. As soon as realization hit me, so did Darcy's predicament. Here I was, wings showing and one of them bleeding badly and Darcy was in the corner screaming her head off. Stumbling backwards, away from my crazed eye attacker, my fear was for myself and for my sister. 

I don't think she knew what she was doing. 

The butcher knife in hand, tears in her eyes and an expressionless mask on her face. 

When she lunged, I threw myself on top of Darcy. So much screaming…so much blood….pain….and all I could do was shelter out bodies with my wings. 

The knife came down again, and again, and again. 

I screamed out, tears poured and the only word I managed for a long time was 'Stop!' but she wasn't listening to me. 

I should have never come back here. I should have stayed with Arty. I should have fought back. 

I should have seen it coming. 

_"Watching for you and for me."_

Darcy is shaking so badly now. I want to tell her its okay, that she didn't do anything wrong. I'm still trying to protect her now when I'm barely hanging on to the conscious world. 

I'm the strong one. 

The stubborn one. 

The outcast. 

I…am the mutant. 

"Why'd you come back!" she had screamed as she hacked away at my back. Darcy was pleading; I was quickly being overcome by the darkness. So much agony lacing through my wings that moved erratically because of the butchering. 

The knife sits beside us now, where she dropped it. 

Only too late did I reach her. Only too late did I realize I was going to die… 

_"Come home, come home."_

I can hear Scott's voice reprimanding me for being so dumb as to venture to this place alone. For not telling anyone where I was going. That's when I knew, sadly, there was probably little hope for me to make it out of this one. 

I had been shot before and survived. 

I have been slammed into trees and survived. 

I have been forced to eat Mr. Remy's 'pure Cajun cooking' before and wanted to rip my tongue out but always survived. 

But that's because I always had someone there for me that could do something. Now the only person here for me was Darcy. 

Darcy who couldn't do anything but cry and sing as she watched, helplessly, her big sister slowly shake hands with death. 

_"Ye who are weary, come home."_

I wonder if…if they will ever know what I have done and what I haven't done. 

I wonder if Scott and Jean took me seriously when I told them I'd be better off without them. It wasn't true but now they'd never have a chance to know that I was just mad. 

Allowing my head to loll to the side, because it hurt too much to keep it positioned, I blink wearily. The blood is covering my eyes and caking them shut. 

Why didn't she just aim for my heart? Why must she always make me suffer? 

Dad, did you feel like this? 

So thankful you could save me but so sad because you knew the cost? 

Is this what sacrifice is like? Pain with happiness? 

I close my eyes now, not forever, just a little while. Everything was so dim anyway that I really don't need to see my feathers or the knife or Darcy's knees. 

The only thing that got her to stop trying to kill me was my plea of "Mama! Please, stop!" 

_"Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling."_

Heather had known, I don't know how, but she did. She knew I was at the house. She must have come back early and gone through the kitchen or something. I can't believe that my little sister would ever be capable of such vicious deceit. 

No, Heather knew some other way. 

She had snuck up behind me and raised that damned butchering knife and plunged it deep into my wings. Over and over, her eyes were crazed as she kept screaming about having to kill the black bird. 

It wasn't my choice. I know you never approved but it wasn't something I could control. She wouldn't listen to her daughters' terrified shrieks of pain and horror. 

She just kept going, up and down, up, down, up down. 

Bone cracking, bits of flesh dropping all around us and so…much…blood…. 

_"Calling, O sinner, come home."_

It was my fault. 

It was always my fault. 

I felt throbs of pain that matched my heart beat wrack my body. 

Couldn't she have just killed me? 

Wouldn't that have been easier than letting me die in Darcy's arms? 

Than forcing my sister to be as emotionally scarred as I was? 

Didn't she realize what she had done? 

Sometime after my final plea of 'mama stop', Heather dropped the knife. 

It was like she had just woken up from a dream. My nightmare. She gasped and started to cry trying comfort and help us both. 

Darcy picked up the fallen knife, and threw it at her. 

My little sister was confused. Heather cried out in shock, but not in pain. And then the sounds of her running, the door opening and then we were alone. 

I'm sorry, Darcy. 

_"O for the wonderful love he has promised."_

She still needs me but for once, there is nothing that I can do to comfort her. I can't do anything to comfort them either when they realize what happened. Maybe they won't know. 

Maybe Darcy will run away from this house once I'm---asleep. Maybe she can run away and find a place of sense and peace where maniacs don't kill people. 

Someplace like the Professor always believed there could be. Humans and mutants in peace. But how? How can that be when the two different species can't even get along in the same family? Where the hatred is constantly taking the numbers of the family members down? 

Dad and now me. 

Half the family. 

Half of my sister's world gone within a wink. 

Dad…Scott…I never meant what I had said. 

Jean…I know you only wanted the best. 

Jack….I should have told you…. 

Chris, Daisy-Mae and all the others….why…why can't I just talk to them again? 

Maybe I wouldn't be so dumb and take them for granted… __

"Promised for you and for me." 

Darcy, I can barely hear you talking. I can hear you singing, but not talking. What are you saying? 

Don't apologize for this. Yeah, I wish it didn't happen. I wish I had told someone where I was going. I wish I hadn't been so mad at everyone as to not consider them. 

Don't cry. 

Dumb choices don't deserve tears. 

I wouldn't have you involved in this, sis. 

But I said I would protect you. 

I just wish I could be around to see you through this aftermath. 

But I don't think I'll be around to see... 

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from that. 

_"Though we have sinned, he has mercy and pardon."_

I'm not outspoken with emotions…but I just want you to know that I---I---l-love you, Darcy. 

Even in my thoughts it's hard to admit. 

Hard to come to terms with. 

I wish I could laugh, I really do. 

To think, it's easier for me to accept that I'm dying than to acknowledge that I l-love someone. 

Even the one I've given my life for. __

"Pardon for you and for me." 

I never said it to Jack in any respect. 

Never said it to my new parents. 

Hardly said it to my birth parents, but given the current situation, I'm glad I didn't say it too often to Heather. Though, I am angered at myself, because this saddens me. I guess somewhere in the darkest corner of my heart I always had hope that she would realize what a mistake she had made in leaving me. 

Guess I was wrong. 

Guess….she really….hated me…. 

_"Come home, come home. "_

Thinking…on it now…I could have fought Heather off. But I still saw her as the woman who raised me for sixteen years. The woman who kissed away my hurts and took care of me when I was sick. 

I couldn't bring myself to hurt her even though she was quite literally killing me. 

How can you hurt someone you love so much? So intentionally? Maybe I'll ask her when I meet up with her again. 

Dad and Mom….Scott and Jean… why can't you help me now? 

_"Ye who are weary, come home."_

I did love them. I still do. 

Don't worry about me. I'm one less person to be concerned about. 

You won't miss me too much I hope. 

Did you love me? 

My--throat---it's clogging. 

_"Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling."_

I love you all. 

Scott, I didn't know I said it to you when you rescued me but I do love you. You are---were, my new father. I know Dad would have been accepting of this. 

Jean…you irritate me with constantly being in my life, but you loved me. I think you did. Why else would you have put up with me so much? I love you all… 

_"Calling, O sinner, come home."_

I let a smile cross my lips, probably--weak, but--it was. 

How right had dad been when he asked, _"What life?"_ _"Calling, O sinner, come ho_-- K-Kerry? No….KERRY!" 

* * *

Author's Note: *nervous laughter* Review please? *hopes on the horse with no name and runs away*


	92. One Last Time

Lucky Me Chapter 92

* * *

Author's Note: Oh come on, you know I couldn't have ended it there! I do have a will to live ya know! ;) Not to mention that simply offing a character is too much of an easy way out. 91 was actually planned near the beginning of the story and everything has been leading up to what 91 thru the end has to offer. So yar, y'all are in luck…I think…hehehe…. And as always, thank you SO SO much for the wonderful (sometimes lethal) reviews! Still looking/hoping/begging for fanart!

* * *

How can any mother idly stand by and let their child die? 

I brushed a few strands of hair behind my ear as I searched across the large field for another person. The field was full of pale yellow and orange flowers that never seemed to end. Their heads were bobbing as the wind stroked their petals. It almost appeared as if they were dancing. 

But I wasn't here to be admiring the landscape. I was here because Kerry called out to me. Because we had to save her. Her screams had ripped through my psyche in the middle of the night and from there we flew to her. 

I had to find her! 

The sense of acceptance lingered in my mind after her scream. She was accepting death! Not fighting for her life. Leaving everyone she knew and love to 'sleep' as she put it. 

That's way I was in her mind as they, Hank and Daisy, worked meticulously on repairing her body. My job was the keep her conscious and her psyche from deteriorating. As I walked aimlessly, turning around in circles, trying desperately to find a sign she was present in this flower field. 

Tears slipped down my face, even though I am only a mental projection in her mind, the pain I'm going through can't be hidden. 

Cupping my hands around my mouth I start to call her name. Over and over, but there is no response. The sky continues to be a perfect shade of blue, with white shapeless clouds and the flowers continue to dance. 

"Where are you?" I whisper, as I drop to my knees. Tears cover my face, my hands cover my tears. I don't want to have to lose someone else! Not a girl who I've adopted! Who I can consider my own daughter! I can't lose another person! Where are you! Why don't you answer. 

Don't die. 

"Why are you crying?" My head jerks up to see a small girl, Kerry no doubt, standing in front of me. Her black hair is pulled back from her face and held securely by clips. Kerry! Within a breath, my arms are wrapped around her slender, child body and pressing her so close to me that I can feel her fragile heartbeat. 

I cling to her for as long as I dare, then pull her back slowly. Confusion is written clearly on her young face. I cup her round face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs lightly over her cheeks. Her hands come up and hold each of my wrists, Kerry's green eyes are painful. 

A content mourning. 

"Did you lose someone?" 

My heart cracked as another heaving sob escapes from my lips. She doesn't know! I bite my lower lip and screw my eyes shut. She doesn't even remember! 

"Is that why you're crying?" I glance at her again, the smile she gives me isn't at all comforting. It reflects her eyes. A depressed joy, one that is felt only when acceptance of a situation has occurred. I wish she wouldn't look at me like that! I don't want her to accept death! If she doesn't fight for her life who else will? 

"I--am crying b-because.." I can't tell this child the truths of her reality but I have to let her know what is happening. Let her know she can't leave! 

"I cry when I lose someone." Kerry's voice is full of--of, something I can't even describe correctly. The best way to express it would be forgiven pain, a hurt that goes so deep it'll sever her in multiple pieces unless someone can stop the hurt. "And I've lost a lot of people. So I cry a lot, too." 

Removing my hands from her face, she inspects my left hand intensely. She twists my wedding band around my finger as if inspecting the ring for defaults or secrets. I stifle back my tears as she turns her attention to my face. Taking the tips of her fingers she brushes my cheeks softly as if trying to make the wetness disappear. 

"You shouldn't worry about me." My heart lurches dangerously close to the edge of a complete breakdown. "You have others to care about." She steps back, turns and starts to walk away. 

"Wait!" I climb to my feet and grab her shoulder before she can disappear. 

Kerry's eyes were always expressive, to see the lack of emotion in them worries and sickens my heart. "Yes?" 

"Can't I come with you?" I smile weakly, trying to reassure her. "I don't want to be out here alone." 

Her laugh is even hallow as she shakes her head in amusement. "This is merely a dream, lady." 

No. 

I freeze in my thoughts. She doesn't think this is real. She has to. I know I keep saying that Kerry has accepted the fact her death is impending, but she can't fight off the dying if she doesn't believe she's in real trouble. 

"You can go wherever you want to." Kerry bends over, picks up a flower and then hands it to me. "This will help. I'll still go with you if you like." She points to a few of the petals and explain that each of them have key words to memories. It is strange but what she said next stopped my heart long enough to make my lungs burn from lack of air even in the mental realm. "Go wherever you like. I have no reason to hide anything anymore. I won't be able to tend this garden much longer." 

"Oh, Kerry." 

She smile was so fake and such a mask of bravery it hurt to look at it. "Where would you like to start? I'd suggest the beginning. It's always the best place to start." 

My focus hazed for a moment, long enough to check with Scott on the physical condition of her body. 

//_They're doing the best the can. You do the same._// Was all he told me and then he left me to fight this alone. 

The girl took my hand, and gently tugged. "Come on, I don't have very long before I have to go to sleep." 

If she could have said death or anything like that it wouldn't have been so painful. 

The flowers faded, the blue sky turned almost black and the wind picked so fast that debris started to nip at my exposed skin. My grip on Kerry's small hand tightened as the wind picked up even more. It felt like a hurricane was forming! Closing my eyes, I turned away from where I could only think it was producing the wind. After a few more seconds passed, and then the wind was dead. 

Crickets' chirps took the place of the howling winds and I blinked my eyes back open. It was still dark but there was moonlight pouring through a range of trees. There was a darkened body of water standing to the immediate right of us. 

"Where are we?" I ask to the girl by my side who is holding my hand and smiling at the same time. 

She made no effort to answer but continues to watch as more appears. Suddenly, on the bank about twenty feet away there was a bright glow that turned into a fire, disembodied laughter that turned into two little girls running around and then a tall man poking the fire. 

That must be her father. 

"Daddy!" The small girl with black hair wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and smiled. "Can I go swimming?" 

"In the morning." He replied gently. The time seemed to speed up considerably, the scenery changes to probably pre-dawn. 

A small head poked out of the tent and smiled like a cat. She tipped-toed to the water side. 

"Didn't listen back then either?" I asked, slightly amused in an attempt to keep the mode light. 

There is a surprising flash from no where and when the spots clear, we are suddenly no longer in the forest, but in the middle of a very small hospital hall. A seven year old Kerry stands out side of a door as the soft medical mutterings come from a doctor inside. 

Kerry's bangs were shielding her eyes and the longer I watched the more horrified I felt. Her mother, Heather, came charging down the hall in a rage. 

"Zach!" In a matter of seconds the woman apparently got the whole story and turned on her daughter. I know it was probably fro the stress of whatever was going on, but the stuck her finger in Kerry's face and began to accuse relentlessly. "This is your fault isn't it?" 

Zach tried to calm his eccentric wife, but she pushed him off towards Kerry and glared at them both. "You should have watched Darcy better!" Heather's eyes were over flowing with tears of worry and anger. "It's your fault!" She screamed at the pair, ran into the room and slammed the door. 

There was a silence that stretched on to forever. 

I felt the tears well up in my eyes as an overwhelming guilt started to eat at me. 

Her dad touched her shoulder gently and smiled. "She's just upset." 

The scene changed again. There was no blurred warning of the transition, no warning just automatic change. I blinked in surprise and Kerry giggled gently at my side. The soft laughter turned into a shriek of pain as the child let go of my hand and hit her knees. 

"I-It's coming!" My eyes widened in surprise. I had been concentrating so much on what she was showing me that I had completely forgotten what was happening in the real world. Another soul scream was released as the entire world was plunged into darkness. A pressure developed on my chest and pushed with an enormous strength., causing me to fly backwards and slam into a solid wall of defenses. 

Opening my eyes, I realized I was back in the plane. Kerry's mind must have pushed me out when she was feeling threatened. Wearily, I climbed to my feet. "S-Scott?" I am weaker than I originally thought as I stumbled on my own feet. Scott turned around in enough time to prevent me from falling. 

"Jean? What's wrong? Are you okay?" He sounds so tired. Of course, he had only been asleep an hour or so before being woken up by my shriek for Kerry. Even though he doesn't always have the best ways of showing his emotions, Scott had been worried sick all day after we discovered Kerry had left. 

No one knew where until her cry for help stretched across the astral plane where I was fortunate enough to receive it. 

"How is she?" I look at the girl who is lying, pale and unconscious on the medical bed located in the Blackbird. The shocking scenery was too much to take in when we found her. Darcy was in hysterics, Kerry wasn't breathing and the cuts in her wings…they were so deep and there was so many. 

Currently Hank and Daisy were working frantically trying to get the girl healed enough to survive the flight. Daisy couldn't do anything for her wings, so concentrated on absorbing the lacerations on her back, neck and arms. 

"T-There's too many!" Daisy cried out before falling backwards. Kerry's 'boyfriend' caught her easily. 

"Give 'em to me kid." Logan stated, rolling up his sleeve. Daisy looked between people, trying to get confirmation on a yes or no. Scott nodded his consent as did Hank, agreeing without words. Hesitantly, the healer touched Wolverine's arm, the soft glow was the only indication anything was happening. 

"How is she inside?" Scott asked, I glanced up from where I was being held in his arms. 

I shook my head. I was losing her inside as well and I wasn't sure how to tell them. But when there were tears escaping from the bottom of his visor, I knew I couldn't say anything. I had to try harder. My family was on the line. 

"I'm going back in." Before Scott's protest got through our link or out of his throat I had already pushed my way back into Kerry's mind. 

At first, there was nothing. Just the darkness which lingered everywhere. My senses groped around, attempting to find an object or something which could chase the darkness away. A dim light began to shine in front of me. It soon stretched and pulled into a silhouette of Kerry as she looked before the attack. 

I felt my heart leap for joy at the sight. Perhaps she was fighting it? If she was coming to me in an image of her current self, then she might not be in such a willing state of death. That is what I had hoped until she smiled. 

There was nothing to keep hope alive in that smile. 

"K-Kerry." I cautiously started to draw closer to her image. When I got a few feet away from her, the black feathers unfurled from her back and reached out to their maximum limit. She was---getting ready to fly. I shook my head, trying to block out the sensation of depression and lose I was feeling. 

I wasn't going to let her go without a fight! 

"I don't want to leave you with a bad opinion of me, Jean." 

"I don't have a bad opinion of you, Kerry." I confess softly, edging closer. Her smile wrecks my heart. "Why don't you show me tomorrow? At home?" I have to give you a reason to fight. 

Again, she smiled. "Do you want to know what really happened between George and me?" As she closed her eyes, I saw a soft reflection from tears appear. The mindscape changed again. I could only guess we were in Washington the day George Wilder died. 

My stomach lurched, the scene in front of me was Kerry holding a glock to the back of a terrified man's head. Her face was screwed into hate as his was of pure fear. A slight tremor went through Kerry's body in the memory as the image who stood beside me only continued the empty smile. 

"At least I'm giving you warning." Her voice echoed around the forest. 

Then, in a wink, the man fell limply to the ground. 

I thought for a second that I missed something, but upon closer inspection I found that the memory Kerry was just as baffled. S-she didn't kill him! H-he fainted! 

"I didn't hurt him." The guide confirmed. 

Kerry in the memory still had the gun raised, but pointing off to the side away from her and George. As she backed up, she lost her balance due to a root and went down with a bang. I guess she pulled the trigger by accident when she fell. 

I heard another thump off to the side and Kerry cried out. 

If my mission wasn't so important I could have laughed. The memory had scampered to her feet and ran to where the thump came from. I watched as she coddled a dead squirrel, tears were already pouring from her eyes. 

Then something else happened. 

Another gun shot. 

I couldn't see who it was, and in the memory, Kerry had seemed equally as alarmed as she dropped the poor creature and stood up. Confusion was on everyone's faces, until Kerry's memory stumbled back to George's body. 

I couldn't believe what I saw…there he was, dead. 

Someone had shot him at the base of the skull while Kerry's back was turned! 

Fear touched my heart as it overwhelmed the memory. In a panic, the girl tucked the gun into the back of her jeans and ran from the scene. 

"See?" The guide asked softly. "I didn't do anything but kill a squirrel." There was a depressed type of humor in her voice that chilled me to the bone. 

"I'm---sorry, Kerry. For doubting you." I look down at my arms as I wrapped them around myself. I felt partly ashamed for not having enough faith in Kerry to know she would never intentionally hurt anyone. "I guess none of us---" 

"Trusted me?" Glancing up at my guide, I noticed the scenery had changed again. Now we were standing in her room at the mansion. The sadness in her eyes only increased as she looked down at the bed in the middle of the darkened room. 

Kerry lay in the bed with---her boyfriend's arm wrapped around her waist. The memory's eyes were opened slightly, a small smile on her lips as her bed partner slept quietly. From fear to extreme peace washed over her emotions and mind. 

The guide sat down at the base of the bed and shared expressions with her memory's face. I've seen that look many times on different people. She really did care deeply for him, that much was obvious. But, I couldn't help but wonder why the guide started to cry? 

"Th-the last words I said to him were so hateful." Tears dripped steadily from the guide's eyes. Her heart sob caused me to step closer but my sudden movement made her jump up and turn away from me. "I--I know you are against us being together. But---he's always been there for me." Kerry turned her saddened eyes to me once more, smiling the shallow smile as she had been before. 

Flashes of the past year or so passed all around us. All the instances of him and her being together, comforting one another, talking and other innocent things. The memories only seemed to cause the guide to become even more distraught. 

"When you seem him next, whenever you get another chance to talk to him….because I don't think I will be able to---talk with him again." My heart throbbed with pain. "Tell him, I'm---sorry." 

I opened my mouth to question her but just as before her manner changed fiercely. 

From crying and distant to----hugging me. Had this been real, the air in my lungs would have rushed out of me by now. My eyes widened considerably as I slowly started to respond. Kerry was never one to show her emotions so…physically. She would smile and smirk through most of the chaos, but never had she reached out so quickly and passionately before. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered into my shoulder. 

"F-For what?" My arms slowly started to respond as I held her back gently. "You haven't done anything to apologize for." 

She buried her face into my shoulders, the tears must have started again because my shoulder was soon damp where her eyes were located. I---could feel her mind slowly losing it's outer realms. My telepathic training allowed me to know when parts of the mind were shutting me off or simply fading away. Nothingness was grasping onto the parts of the mind which weren't needed and selfishly destroying them. 

I had to make her fight. I pushed her away, but instead of seeing a teary eyed teenager…there was a skeleton staring back at me with its useless jaw open and it was wearing her uniform! 

A scream was sitting in my throat but just as it was about to be let out, I felt the tight pressure pushing me out of her mind once again. 

"--ean! Jean! Wake UP!" Scott was shaking my shoulders none too gently as I came back to myself. I opened my eyes and quickly let them fall shut once again. 

"What happened?" My voice was dry and scratchy. 

"You passed out after you went back into her mind." A chill of eeriness snaked through my body as I remembered the way the skeleton had looked at me. 

The commotion around me brought me back to the present once more. With Scott's aid, I sat up and looked over at the next bed. Beads of sweat were glistening off of Daisy and Hank's foreheads. They worked frantically trying to keep the faint heart beep from flat lining. My stomach quaked with fear, my heart shattered with the loss of hope. 

She wasn't even trying to fight off death. Neglecting Scott's words of warning and desperate pleading, I once again ventured into my daughter's dying mind. 

"Kerry! Get here right now!" I screamed as loudly as I could without causing her mind to hemorrhage. There was no response at first, but I called her over and over till she stood in front of me once more. 

"I have to go." Kerry then pointed behind her, towards a pinprick of light. "I don't think I'll see my Daddy again." She smiled, God, I wish she would stop that! "Even my new Dad was always mad at me." Tears fell from my eyes. 

"Stop it, please." 

"Dad---he'd be mad with me because I didn't listen very well at all." She sighed. "I don't want to be yelled at again." 

"Stop being selfish, Kerry." I ordered in the best authoritative voice I could muster. 

Her expression dissolved to shock and confusion. "Selfish?" Her voice sounded like that of a little girl. 

"Yes." I bite through my tears. "You can't leave us like this." I had tried the gentle luring, but knowing her attitude and general spirit fighting usually worked. "We love you so much. It isn't fair to us! You aren't allowed to leave us. Your team needs you. Scott and I need you." 

Kerry seemed to weigh my words thoughtfully. She looked over her shoulder as the pinprick of light had grown into large ball…but it was fiery. Her brows knitted together as she slowly came to meet my gaze again. "There are something we can't control." She gave a lopsided grin. "Even the Professor has his limits, right?" 

"Fight for your life and we'll see if he does." 

"I would have been better….if only I had known." 

I shook my head trying to reach for her, but my hand sailed through her arm as if she were Shadowcat. "Kerry! What am I going to tell the others?" My heart felt like stone, shattering stone. "What about Scott? Your _team_?" 

The fire had changed again, from white light to bright red fire to a dark black horizon of fire. It was death, her destination in death. Suddenly it dawns on me about what she meant about not seeing her father again. Some time ago, she mentioned her father being a Christian and as far as I know, Kerry doesn't believe in anything. 

Hell, she was going to hell. Oh, God, no! 

Forcing myself to concentrate hard enough on her image, I was able to make her tangible and therefore I was able to take a hold of her. "Listen her young lady, you can't do this! You can win! Would you rather die and spend an eternity in damnation?" 

"What else do I deserve?" 

Without anything else to say to answer her question, I grabbed her shoulders and embraced her as if I was trying to protect her from the quick coming fire. "You deserve to live." 

"That's a matter of opinion." She pushed me away. "This link is quickly dying, Jean. Don't make them lose you too." Kerry turned away from me again. "Tell them---I love them." Her voice was soft and fragile. No, I couldn't lose her like this! 

"Tell them yourself." I prodded. 

"I have to go." 

"Don't you dare!" I cried. The heat from the wave of black fire started to be felt mentally. Burning away the life of Kerry's mind. Shielding my eyes from the blinding white tips of the awesome fire, I watched in heart ache as Kerry reached out a small hand towards the flames. She was back to her childlike form. "Get away from there!" 

Big green eyes turned to me, tears running down her round cheeks as she ran to me, wrapping her arms around my legs. Calling upon on all my power, I covered us both as the flames surrounded our bodies. I knew I should have pulled out there. Kerry's mind was gone…her body was going to follow shortly. 

But what mother could leave her crying, fear filled child to face a monster by themselves? I hit my knees, Kerry grabbed my torso and begged me to make the nasty demons go away. Sweat was pouring from my pours as I concentrated on the shrinking bubble of protection my powers had to offer. 

"K--Kerry, I can't keep this up much longer." I didn't know how to tell her I had to leave. "I---I have to go now." Tears and the droplets of salty sweat mingled on my face. 

She blinked, not completely understanding. How could she? The majority of her mind had been consumed by these death flames. "B-but you will come back, won't you mommy?" 

…out off all the things she could have said….she called me her mother. 

I screwed my eyes shut, concentrating on the force shield and the right words to tell her good-bye. 

"You will come back, right mommy?" Her eyes spilled with tears. "Everyone is always leaving me, making me cry, saying good-bye and never coming back! You can't leave me, mommy! I'm scared!" She sobbed as her head was buried in her own little hands now. 

My heart wrenched at her words, her emotions, her desperate need of me. The fire didn't pop and crackle, it howled as if a cold wind supplied it's fury. Whatever it's temperature was, I'd know soon enough. I grabbed my daughter tightly to my chest and braced myself for the oncoming onslaught. 

"Don't cry, I'm with you." 

After all, how can any mother idly stand by and let their child die?

* * *

Post Author's Note: Hey readers! *ducks as random sharp objects are thrown at head* I just want to let ya know that I loved each and everyone of the 63 reviews! That was really awesome! ^.^ Will there be a 93? I dunno, do you think I should ;)


	93. The Visits

Lucky Me 

Chapter 93

* * *

Author's Note: Nah nah made ya look! 

* * *

I open my eyes. The sensation of light hitting them forces me to close my eyes yet again. 

Memories, slow and splintered, come back. Kerry, oh no…I died with her. I should very well be dead. I frantically try to sit up since my powers are still rebuilding themselves from being so taxed. Gentle and firm hands push me back down, telling me to take it easy. 

Weakly, I look over and up at my husband, Scott. His face is marred with a deep frown, but I can sense intense relief in our rapport. His hand takes one of mine and squeezes it lightly. There is an underlying emotion, and I look over to where his eyes are directing and I don't know what to feel. 

I can't move because it hurts my body. I can't look away even though it hurts my heart. 

Half of me reconsiders that I should be thankful to see Kerry in the bed beside mine. She is hooked up to every machine I have ever seen in the medical lab. The steady pump of the accordion like machine which feeds her lungs, the heart monitor giving soft beeps every time her heart pumps, and IVs inserted into both her wrists. 

Tears came to my eyes as I stared at her. The fallen angel. She's so young, too young to know this type of violence. 

My thoughts are rattled and still smarting from the wounds I guess only death can bring. A part of me feels drained and yet another part feels relieved as if a huge burden has been taken off my shoulders. It was my death I suppose, I was scared of dying. 

I turn my face away, back to face Scott. I didn't want to die, even as I held my scared daughter in my arms. She had screamed and clawed as I held her. The flames were freezing and burning and it--- 

I feel something on my hand. Something wet and warm which runs smoothly down the back of my hand and onto the bed. Turning my eyes to my husband, I never thought I'd see the day when he would bow his head and cry. Scott normally only let his guard down around me, when no one else stood a chance of coming in. But here was my husband, crying with his head bowed, my hand gripped tightly in his own. 

"S--cott?" I manage to croak weakly. 

Within a breath, he has leaned over the bed and hugged me firmly, yet gently. I feel only a few tears hit my face as I force my arms to respond, forgetting their soreness. "Scott?" I whisper. 

"I--thought I had lost you." 

My eyes seal shut as tears, a new type of crying, emerges from underneath my eyelids. "I'm right here." I softly stroke his hair attempting to comfort him. 

"But you weren't, Jean." Scott moves back to gaze at me. "You and Kerry were gone. Flat lined for five minutes at least." 

The news is shocking to me. "D-Did Hank---?" Fear grips my chest, I was dead. I had died. I could still be dead. 

"No." Was all Scott would say as he held me again. This time, the tears he cried and the words he said weren't about me alone. The phrase 'both of you' slipped in more than once. I know Scott has had to face the loss of two children, Rachel and Nathan, for different reasons and now he stood to face a third. 

It had only been three days, Kerry was still in a comatose state and yet I was alive. A part of me felt guilty, and another part, again, felt relieved. 

* * *

She calls me 'Jack' for the purposes of keeping our relationship hidden. She might disguise my name, but I'm the one who uses an image inducer to hide who I am. Right now, seeing her like this, I wish I could hide again. 

There isn't anything like loosing someone you love, except for having a shred of hope that they aren't really gone. That's what this is. She is laying in the medical bay of the mansion with tubes and needles sticking out of her. Just seeing her makes me want to scratch my arms where she has the needles inserted. 

She's so close, physically, but so far away, mentally. 

It's only been a few days and I haven't slept for more than an hour at a time. Much to the Professor's regrets, I have not left the room where she lays. 

Why didn't she tell me she was going away? 

No matter how mad I was, I would have gone with her. Maybe then I could have stopped that psychotic witch from doing this to her. 

Kerry. I take her limp, needle infested hand into mine. 

If this is really the end, then why the hell did it have to end on a fight? 

I'm having problems remembering what it is we fought over. Probably something miniscule and stupid. Pointless crap that made her feel she couldn't come to me. God, it hurts. I don't want to lose her but I can't fight for her. 

God, please….you can't do this. You don't give someone somebody and then take them away, you can't. I don't want to lose her. She's not allowed to make me crazy like this. 

Kerry, you stubborn girl, just wake up. 

Just…don't leave. 

Tears, ones I rarely cry because I'd rather laugh, fall on her hand and then her face as I lean over her body and kiss her forehead. 

I'll be here for her, when she wakes up. 

Or even when she can breathe on her own, without the aid of the breathing tube. 

I'll be here waiting for her. 

* * *

I wanted to growl, or electricute him every time I came down here. 

Ten days. Ten days since the incident and every single freaking day he was by her side! 

Of course he was never awake. I started to take some college classes and had to be gone most of the day. By the time I returned, it was late and I'd always go and see her first. 

But she was never alone. She was always with him. 

Ugh, it was so disgusting. Most of the time I would just turn and leave, but something would make me go and at least stare at her and ignore him completely. He was such a spineless wuss. How the hell did he get Kerry? 

Yeah, Chris with the bad attitude, that was me. Chris who had fallen for a girl who never gave me more than sharp words and withering looks. 

This sucks. 

Why the hell doesn't he just leave her be? He's an idiot. Gah, I hate him right now. 

I grind my teeth together and turn and leave, I bump into her sister as I go. 

"Uh," the girl starts but I shoot her a nasty glare and the sheer force of the look causes her to stumble back. Kerry would have killed me several times already had she known the look I had given to her precious baby sister. "N-never mind." 

I sigh. This isn't what she would want. I also had a little sister so I knew how to handle them. "Sorry, I---just thought you were someone else." I give her my best smile, which Kerry says looks more like a toothless lion's snarl. 

"I--I'm kind of lost." Darcy, she doesn't look much like her sister. Kerry has black hair and green eyes, Darcy has more blondish hair with bluish eyes. "I don't know where the kitchen is." 

Shaking my head, making sure to keep a smile on my lips I jerk my head in the direction and wait for her to catch up with me. 

This is the least I can do for Kookie until she wakes up. 

Sheesh, when did I become so soft?

* * *

If any one had a clue that I was down here, I would have to bring massive amounts of pain down upon them. I might be thin, but it doesn't mean that I can not hold my own in a fight. Although, in honesty, I would just manipulate there emotions till they were a whining mess. 

Who would ever think that the mighty Julie Loone would bother with the mostly dead girl off and on for almost two weeks? 

Her boyfriend is passed out again by her side. Pathetic lovesick fool. Although everyone is putting on a brave face, I can read them clearly. 

They are terrified and have no hope of her recovery. They don't see things the same way I do. I can see her emotions, and after living in an asylum, I know dead people. 

I was always surrounded by the insane and their erratic emotions. When they were sedated, their emotions would tone down a great deal, but not completely off. When they attempted suicide, then they were like warmed flesh. 

But it isn't so with this blockhead. 

This trollop is fighting something in her vegetable state. Her emotions aren't fever pitched, but they exist enough to show the battle to those, namely me, who know what to look for. 

There is depression and hope mingled and stabbing each other constantly. It's almost funny how she is fighting herself with something the others don't even have. Oh, they have the depression. They fancy it over hope. 

I could help. I really could, hope is an emotion. I could simply push her emotional heart in that direction and speed up the battle. But…I don't want to. 

I want to see the perfect princess to suffer for a bit. She's too stubborn to die. She's too stubborn to do anything besides what she wants. But that's not wholly the reason for my want of her suffering. 

No, I want her to suffer for another reason. 

And he's laying his head right beside her. 

My hands, even though they are…never mind. My nails bit into my palms, actually only into the leather that covers my palms. Red leather, the color of blood, the color of love and passion in the emotions. It wasn't my fault! 

I shake my head, I will not cry! 

Narrowing my eyes, I wish I could burn a hole in her head sometimes. I don't really hate her, but I hate that she---is so attached to him. I don't know why I fancy him so much. He was one of the people who have been nice to me for as long as I have been here. The comments and nasty words slide right off of him as if they were bits of rain. 

In Las Vegas, I could have let her die. I could have let both of them be murdered by their own stupidity. The door they were about to pass through was never used by anyone on that floor, meaning Lucky Dice and his associates, and therefore was booby trapped. It was fixed with a bomb that could have blown away half of the stair well. I noticed this only because I know how to make bombs such as that. 

For the briefest of moments I think about placing a bomb under her bed, but the furthest I'll ever get is thinking about it. I'm not completely a demon after all. Pushing my sunglasses further up my nose, I turn and leave. There is nothing more to see here. 

As I leave, I bump into the girl's number one fan. 

"Watch were you're going, Bradley." 

He gives me a dirty look, and then, as I walk away, I feel a electric shock go through my body. 

Whirling around, I go to give him a piece of my depression but he's already disappeared into the room. 

Wanker.

* * *

She looks like some type of foreign, forsaken angel laying on the snow white sheets with her dark hair fanning out around her pale features. Except now…well, anyway, now it's different. I walked in while her boyfriend is sleeping. He doesn't do much anymore but eat, sleep and worry. He isn't down here all the time because Mrs. Jean doesn't approve of the match. 

I don't know why not. 

My sister has always been pretty to me but the stark contrast of white versus black makes her seem almost picturesque. Her boyfriend stirred and I sheepishly smiled at him as he quickly pulled away from her. "That's okay, you don't have to." I try to stop him from a hasty retreat, but it doesn't help because he makes a few excuses and runs for it. 

I sigh and sit down on the empty bed beside her. Since I'm only 5'5 my feet aren't anywhere near the floor and I kick them out in a beat only I can hear. They say they don't know where Mom has gone to and as nasty as it makes me feel, I can't say I really care right now. How can I? She's the cause of Kerry's current precarious state. 

The Bible I've been clutching in my arms is my only comfort. It was when Daddy died, when Grandma got attacked, when Kerry got attacked and now. Many people I've met before and after this wonder how I can still believe in God who is good when all these misfortunes have happened in a steady order. 

My reply usually is something like 'think about how bad I would be without Him.' They are still baffled, but it's true. My sister means the world to me because I've always looked up to her. Kerry was always the one to stand up for me when I wouldn't, she was the one who put up with me during nightmares (though I know she became irritated) and even entertained me on Halloween by letting me pick out the costumes. 

A smile forms on my face as I start to hum. 

Even now I feel peace overwhelm me. A sense of knowing what ever happens is in the best hands they could possibly be in right now. 

A memory of when I was seven and she just turned ten comes to mind. I had been at Sunday school when a boy, Eric, had lifted up my skirt and I went away crying. Kerry had seen the whole thing and brought the word of God right down on that boy's head until he saw the lights (or at least bright bursts of them the way his eyes twirled around in his head). Daddy had been less than amused, Mom said the young punk deserved it and Kerry had threatened that if he or any of his loser friends messed with me again, they'd have to answer to her. 

That's how she got the nick name 'D'mon Demon' which sounded like Mr. LeBeau's 'the' so it translated into 'De Moon Demon'. She had to carry that name with her all through elementary and her junior high years. I always felt guilty because I knew it was my fault she had such a reputation and a horrible pet name. I bet she hasn't mentioned that to anyone here. 

I accuse my younger self of being the reason my sister withdrew from people, because she was the 'demon' of her class. So she stood up for a weaker person, what was wrong with that? Kerry always blew off my questions and apologies, but I knew she was lonely. 

While she was the strong one, I was the popular one. For some reason, my sister's bad reputation only improved mine. 

My smile fades as I remember, yet again, another time when she took the brunt of the pain for something that wasn't her fault. 

It was when she was going into High School, after we had lost Daddy. Tears start to spring up at the thought of my father who has gone Home. Another pain, less deep but only barely surfaces as I can hear their taunting voices still in my ears. My sister had been trying to help me do something when that same boy, Eric, decided to do something vicious. 

Because Kerry wouldn't even pass him a glance, the boy, of course, fell for her. He asked her out and she simply said she'd rather eat a three day old toad which had been injected with nuclear waste and run over by a tractor fresh out of the cow field. From that day on, he had spread nasty rumors about who she was and what she did. 

It was the typical dumb teenage topics. He said she was gay, that she was really a guy who liked to cross dress and all this other stuff. It was horrible. But that wasn't even the worse of it all. 

The worst part was when he found her notebook full of clippings about mutants. 

He accused her of being a mutant at the most at being a mutant lover at the least. Pretty high crimes. It came to a climax when Eric had flaunted her notebook around the cafeteria and asked her point blank. Kerry looked ready to gouge his eyes out, but she didn't hiss a word. 

Instead, he turned to me. He asked if I could deny it. I glared at him and then looked to Kerry who waited for me to answer. I was in the middle of the most popular people and I had been pressured. So I said the only thing I could think of, and that was that she was a freak in love with the X-gene and then went on to describe her room. I made up most of it and felt like a big fat liar (which I was) afterwards. 

It took me a week to be able to talk to her without wanting to cry, I felt so guilty. When I told her that I didn't mean it, that it was the last week of school and no one remember once she got into high school and just rambled on. Kerry had looked at me, and my heart broke repeatedly every time I thought about the look in her eyes. There was no fight, there was no life, just a complete cave in. She was empty and her eyes showed it. 

Kerry had told me not to think about it too much or I might get a reputation as an intellectual. From then on she had been a zombie. Doing what she needed to, but nothing else. She clamed up and just stayed out of the way. It was because of me, I just know. It's because I betrayed her. All she ever did was protect me and I betrayed her. 

But then she came to this place. This 'school' and for the first time in a long time, she was actually starting to be Kerry again. Especially because she didn't get people who judged her. Every time I'd call or she'd send a letter Kerry was more alive then I had noticed in a long time. No one knew what we had been through, no one called her names and when she got her a boyfriend, she couldn't be anymore like herself than before the tragedies. 

I look at my sister and open my Bible, closing my eyes I pray for her recovery and then start reading out loud from the Gospel of Matthew. Half way through the third chapter, Kerry's new 'mother' came in. She smiles and I try to reflect the action but fail. 

"How are you holding up?" I can't believe this lady is more concerned about me than she is about herself. She suffered a great loss recently, one she couldn't get back and one she didn't even have a hope of getting back. 

"Okay." I answer vaguely. "Do you know when she'll wake up?" 

Her smile falters, "I don't know if she'll wake up." 

My heart drops to the floor. I guess it's better than her lying and raising my hopes. "Oh." I wrestle with the right words for what I want to ask. A few minutes later and the words are captured between my teeth and tongue. "Y-you were there when--they said she---" 

"Yes." Her voice is very controlled, wish I had that ability. "I was, why?" 

"Wh--what did you see?" I grip the book in my hands to my chest, trying to use osmosis to make it be a part of me physically. "Towards--the end?" 

Mrs. Summers is very quiet for a few minutes. Is she debating not telling me? Maybe it something I don't want to hear. I sigh, it might not be something I want to hear but it is something I defiantly want to know. 

"Fire." I cringe. "But I don't see why she would be deserving of hell, she was a good person." I sigh, apparently Mrs. Summers didn't understand either. "She's not religious." She talks as if I am not already aware of this truth. 

"It doesn't matter if you are religious or not." I state slowly. "Kerry is like my ---mother. She doesn't believe in anything hardly. Daddy and I were the only ones in our family who do." I bite my lip. "If she doesn't believe, if anyone doesn't, then they die. Twice." Mrs. Summers remained quiet so I felt the need to continue. "I--I know that I'm not perfect, but I have been able to deal with it because of what I choose to believe, in whose hands I choose to give my life to." 

"You mean being a Christian, then?" Again, such control. "I'm surprise you can believe in anything like that after you see this." 

"I know someone who suffered worse." She arches an eyebrow but doesn't say anything more. "Just like Him, Kerry wasn't at fault with the---attacker but she still stood between me and that fate. I don't see how people can go through life with only themselves to depend on." 

"When you're a mutant, it's different. We have enough power to forge the future." 

"But not enough power to keep people from going to hell." 

She didn't retort and I feel silent as well. 

Absently I flip to a familiar passage my Daddy use to read to both Kerry and I when we were little. 

_"But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed."_ --Isaiah 53: 5. 

* * *

"No way!" Julie screamed. 

"Yes 'way'!" Chris fought back. The energy started to crackle around his body. "Get. Out." 

"I wasn't doing anything you ---you!" Julie stamped her foot and marched heavily out of the room. Pretty big feat for such a lightweight. 

"Both of you, out of here!" Dr. McCoy commanded them. "Don't you have something to do?" He turned, eyed me and muttered under his breath about the impossibilities of youth. "I'm surprised to see you in here, Bishop." 

I nod. I only came to look at her for a few minutes because I know part of the future. It's not that she was an outstanding X-Man, in truth, she will turn on them. Not within the next few years, but she will still turn on them. Of course, seeing her here in the medical bay, near death leads me to the realization that the future is always open to change. Has it already changed? 

The X-Men play a vital role in the shaping of the world I come from, but with the stop of Onslaught, perhaps my time line has already been nullified. 

The one time I did speak to D'Mon about her future, I lied. 

It wasn't her grandchild at all that told us the stories of Blight but I wasn't able to tell her who it was. She had to shape her own future. I just hoped it would be different from the one which I lived in. 

* * *

I lost my parents. 

I lost my brother. 

I lost my son's growing up. 

I lost my daughter in the time stream. 

I lost my first love, then I lost my first wife, and then I lost my wife again, though temporarily. 

And now I stand to lose another child. Many would wonder why I even have a heart anymore after it has been destroyed so many times with loving and loosing. But I'm the one who is the shoulder, the sensible, dependable Scott Summers. 

I was one of the first X-Men and I've seen many of our members die. I've been to almost everyone of their funerals and had to hide the hurt because I was the one the others needed to lean on. Sometimes I hate it. This is nothing but the self made cage I have put myself into. I just had to be the strong one, the one who never changed, the one who would always remain the same no matter what life threw at me. 

Staring down at Kerry, I know why I felt like I recognized her spirit. She has the same sad trait I do. She's always trying to be the strong one and feels guilty when she can't be. I tried my hardest to break that habit before it sunk its claws into her life, but I was already to late. 

I haven't been down here in the three weeks she's been here. I didn't want to see another person die on me. 

Yes, I yelled at her. Probably I yelled too much, but I just didn't want her to end up in the medical bay, like she is and close to death, like she is. 

Though I really can't tell her very much out loud, since I have never been good with expressing my feelings, I'm so proud of her. What she did for another makes me glad she was under my training, that she chose not to hurt, but defend even at her own physical expense. 

I pick up her hand and squeeze it lightly. 

And then I screamed for Hank.


	94. Missing In Action

Lucky Me Chapter 94

* * *

Author's Note: I had to start this chapter like ten million times because I could never peg down the way I wanted it to go. -sighs- This is beta free. As you can probably tell. So like people, have mercy. It's Spring Break. My betas will be back next week ;)

* * *

My life sucked. 

Well, technically, my death sucked. 

You know what's even worse than death sucking? The constant screaming and the fact that the pair of lungs owned a hand which was currently squeezing mine into numbness. 

What death lacked in warmth and light it made up for in pitch blackness and searing silence. 

Not saying that was a bad thing as the lungs with hand tightened its hand to the point I thought my fingers were going to pop off and lodge themselves in the lung body (hopefully silencing it). The corner of my eyes twitched only a few seconds before I pried them open to have a better aim when my soon to be fingers turned projectile would launch. 

"Oh my stars!" Et tu, Dr. Hank? Et tu? 

I know a half dead person is suppose to be groggy and really passive. But I was just bitter and grumpy. How would you like your wake up call to be a vice like grip and a scream that could wake the dead (no pun intended)? 

And if one hand gripping mine like I was going to use it against them wasn't enough, I felt a furry handcuff take the other one and apply pressure. 

I groaned. 

Dr. Hank then rewarded my hard earned eye-opening with a bright shinny stick _right in my eyes. _

"Kookie?" Scott asked. I grunted weakly. Words just don't want to form in a parched through and sandpaper tongue. 

I woke up before this, oh sure, plenty of times. Once when my teeth felt like they were being pulled out and another time when someone was peeling back all my fingernails (or so it felt). So excuse me if waking up in a bad mood seems unjustified. 

"Just tell me if this hurts." He said as he poked me in the shoulders. 

Then it was my turn to shriek their eardrums into memories. 

* * *

Two days later, tons of fluid down a tortured throat and a large of dish of happy piles equals a highly doped up and out of it Kerry. Sadly, it reminded me of the 'good-ole days'. Darcy had nearly cried herself into dehydration and everyone else was happy. 

I didn't feel happy. 

Besides the fact I couldn't really _feel_ at all because of the 'happy pills' I knew underneath it all I didn't feel happy. 

There was nothing but pure nagging darkness. It was there, buried beneath the cloud of my hazy mind. Without those medications throbbing I could feel the depression lurking, waiting to attack. Just like that nightmare of a mother. She was lurking around every corner of my mind with that knife and those words. 

Every time I closed my eyes I was afraid that I would open them to her enraged, crazed face with the blood coated butcher knife in the raised to take another strike. When ever I jerked out of that dream, I would flinch away from human contact. My throat would stick together and my screams would be welled up inside me. 

There was no escaping this nightmare. 

Not when it was part of my life. 

I attempted desperately to focus on breathing, thinking, the visitors' obsessive ramblings but all focus lead me back down the darkened path. Along the path though I noticed something was missing. Something vital. It wasn't my heartbeat but it was something. 

Every time I'd get close to figuring it out, the darkness of dreams would grabbed me by my throat and drag me back into its fiery pits of odium. 

* * *

_My vision was blurred but I could feel the warmth of the sun, the breeze on my skin. I felt ever strand of hair the wind tossed about as I stood there. I was standing, wasn't I? Yeah, I was. The pressure on the bottom of my feet was proof enough. _

The light pierced my vision, forcing me to raise a hand to block it out. The light was only coupled with the normal blobs of colors. Darks and light forging some awkward, unidentifiable shapes. Something heavy was in my right hand. 

Blinking back to clarity, I slowly looked around me. The surroundings seemed so familiar. I knew this place. 

"Where?" My voice! I had it back! Since me screaming of bloody pain it has been out of service. There are trees above me, their leaves serving as some sort of protectorate against the hot white sun. Muffled pleadings capture my attention. 

Studying the area around me, I pinpoint a human blob of color. It seems---familiar. This whole scenario seems familiar. Deciding that checking out the foliage would only entertain me for just so_ long, I stumble over to the voices. _

One I recognize quickly. Darcy. 

She sounds like she's in trouble. I try to call out to the blobs, there are now two but neither seem to acknowledge me. I grunt, and push of the tree I had been resting on. The unfamiliar weight in my hand causes me to bring it up to my face for inspection. 

Over and over I try to get my fingers to obey, to drop the gun I found in my right hand. My fingers were almost forged with the dumb thing. I couldn't drop it! 

Then I heard Darcy scream. There was only one blob left in front of me. 

Why! Why does it always come down to this! 

I raise the gun, narrow my eyes, and pull the trigger in enough time to see the blob take a clear shape and form. 

Darcy! 

I shot Darcy! 

I snapped my eyes open and attempted to sit up in the bed. But the grogginess and weakness I felt before was still with me. My heart pounded. 

"Kookie?" I jerkily turned to Jack as I fell back on to the bed. "What's wrong?" 

Some type of witty reply was what I wanted but instead, I turned towards him and started to silently cry. 

* * *

Glaring contests with the weak and disabled shouldn't be allowed. But Julie apparently didn't operate on the same plane that I did. 

She leaned in the corner of the door glaring at me as Dr. Hank and Adam fused about me. She's been doing this ever since I woke up. All I get off of her is negative vibes. That and this annoying smoky smell. Heh, I wonder why she doesn't get fussed at for smoking. 

When Jean came in the room she looked slightly happy and about one hundred percent unsettled. "Kookie, I have ---good news . You no longer have to attend SCPS." 

"I thought it was PSSC." 

Jean glanced at Julie then turned back to me. "Like I was saying, you'll never have to go to school again." She held up this flimsy folder. "You're free." 

Oh right, like I'm that stupid not to know that there is going to be a catch. 

"Of course," here it comes. "You are now home schooled like Daisy." 

"That's unfair!" Julie yelped but something must have come to her messed up little mind because she perked up and muttered a 'never mind' as she exited. 

"What's that all about?" Adam questioned. Dr. Hank gave him a level stare and a firm smack to the back of the skull. 

Jean sighed and left, dumping the record in my lap. 

* * *

Later that day, Chris came to visit. 

Great, from one bitter moody person to a male bitter moody person. 

"How are you feeling?" 

I rolled my eyes and turned my face away. 

"That good, huh?" 

Oh, even better than that. 

"Did you know Adam is going to college in the spring?" Chris asked, getting me to turn my attention to him again. "Yeah, and I think I'm going to go the next fall." 

Something in me normally would have felt loss, pain or something. Instead, I could feel nothing. College. Ha, what a joke. College was just an expensive excuse to suspend reality for four years. I'd be lucky if ever I made it to college. 

"I know you have some of your verbal abilities left." 

I turned away from him again. "I don't want to waste them." I didn't mean to come off like I didn't want to waste it on just _him_. But, of course, he took it that way and just stormed off. 

Great, someone _else_ in this world who hates me. What's he going to do? Fry me in the shower? 

* * *

"Wow," Darcy commented a few more days later. "Your grades are pathetic." Matches my life. "Except for this one." 

She pointed to a spot on the report card and shoved it in my face. My eyes bugged out and I ripped it from her hands to stare at it harder. 

It said I had a 'b' in Poovey's class from last year! 

No way! I had flunked the final (because the anal retentive man refused to let me take it) and ended up with a D- for the year (because I also flunked the final project). And yet, there it was, plain as day. B. 

Darcy left a while after that, snickering to herself about something and going to call on Grandma who was recovering still. Adam came next with a clipboard and the ever clicking pen. "Hey." 

I pointed to the report card (to explain why my eyes looked like softballs). 

He laughed. He actually _laughed_ at me. "Oh, so you finally noticed, eh?" 

No, I just was appalled that they printed my report card on non-recyclable paper. DUH! 

"Chris and I did that last year. Loads of fun actually." Huh? Okay, you should not mess with a drugged girl's head. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to flex my wings, but they weren't responding. They must have really been banged up, I could even feel them. 

"Chris?" I croaked out dryly. 

"Yeah, he knew you totally bombed the major parts of the grade." Pause to scribble. "So he recruited me and totally wrecked that bad grade into something a little more---presentable." Scribble again. "That decrepit system went down without much of a fight." 

I blinked back in surprise. 

I just couldn't think. Gah, why did Chris have to be nice when I didn't _want_ him? 

Then Jack came in, Adam left when he noticed how much I perked up. 

* * *

They never told me. 

Ice. I felt like ice. 

I finally realized what it was that I was missing. 

It took me a week to notice. 

They weren't showing me any mirrors. They weren't talking about it. All Dr. Hank could mutter was it was impossible to save them. 

My wings. 

My wings were gone. 

Not hidden behind an image inducer, not under my shirt, they were gone. 

Taken from me, without my consent. They were given to me without my consent, but I---they were a part of me now. But they were no longer a part of me now. Where'd they go? Did they fall off? 

No. They didn't fall off. I remember someone in some place saying they were taken from me. Someone took my wings. Wanted to make me normal again. Someone wanted me to be normal looking. But it's in the blood. Why didn't they take the blood? Leave my wings and take my blood? It wouldn't have hurt so much. 

I had forgotten how to breathe. 

It was just too hard to think about how to do it, so I didn't try. 

I just stood there, my vision blurring and my lungs no longer functioning the way they should. 

There was something about this that could have been prevented. I just know it but I couldn't do anything. I couldn't think, couldn't move, and I just could not breathe. There was oxygen blowing all around me, but I couldn't get it into my body. It was too hard. 

My hearing latched on to a sound, one that didn't come from me. A distant drum that sped up and then slowed, then sped up again. Like a dull machine gun firing off bullets. It was my heart. The heart that was so pained with lack of air, with the disbelief of what I was seeing, what I was feeling, and yet it still pounded relentlessly in my chest. The echoes it made where in my ears, damming out any outside sound. 

The only thought my mind could grasp was that my wings were gone. 

I was ---I was---murdered. 


	95. Burned Blood

Lucky Me Chapter 95

* * *

Author's Note: Another beta-less chapter (so far) and to think I have 80-something through 90-something all betaed and not put up…ooops! Anyway, why a quick update? Because I don't want people to kill me because I'm lazy! I know I made y'all wait for-ev-er for the last two updates (okay, mostly because it wasn't coming out right and the second reason because I wanted to make y'all sweat.). ^.^ I also will be plagued with evil homework from here on out (6 more weeks then 12 weeks of flipping burgers or something. Ode to Oil, blah!) and though stress is what gets me writing, Kerry is coming to a close. She will probably last 10-15 more chapters more. She _will_ be finished by May. I have a friend up here who is also the beta (one of them) and I wanted to finish it before she left (don't ask me why, I'm weird. Deal with it.) So thanks to those who are still hanging around after all this time! Y'all rock!

* * *

"You're not even trying." My teacher, Mr. Kurt pointed out for the twentieth time as I hit my knees again. They were going to have to replace these dumb blue mats because I'll wear the padding down. 

The one hand I still had the bar tightly clasped in crunched down on the metal. My teeth clenched. "Give me a reason to." I spat out coldly. 

Again, I had to learn to walk again. For the _third freaking_ time. Before it was almost surreal, now it was just another cold slap in my face. Another claw which dug it's nasty tip into my life, ripping away the layers and leaving me to cry tears of blood and hate. 

"Kookie, this isn't like you." 

Like I am anything I use to be. My wings are gone. Butchered. Completely hacked off and he thinks I'm suppose to turn around and be happy about it? Screw that. I have no wings. I have no real reason to learn anything. I spent all that time and energy on learning to fly and walk with wings and what was the point? What was the _point_? 

I was a fallen angel. 

All because my 'mom' was a psycho crazy freak. 

Who cared about _walking_? 

"Kookie?" Mr. Kurt put his hands on my shoulders and I snapped my eyes up to him. Whatever he saw in my face caused his shoulders to slump. "I guess we are through for today. I'll go and get the wheelchair." 

I gripped the railing tightly with one hand, swung the other one around and it too was holding on to the bar. If I wanted to, I could pull myself up and force my legs to help me stand. But again, what was the point of trying? 

It was all going to be taken away from me anyway.

* * *

I jolted up in my bed once again. 

Not again. I can't do this again. Every thing which could possibly tremble, shake or quiver was doing exactly that. Fear swept through me, became absorbed into my heart till it dripped with the petrifying emotion. 

Another nightmare. 

B-but this time it wasn't Darcy. This time I had been in Arty's hospital room and as she laid there, gently resting, I had picked up on of the spare pillows. While humming a tune, I had pressed the pillow over her face. I pressed and pressed…. 

My throat clenched to keep my dinner down. 

Arty was out of the hospital and currently preparing a room in her new house for Darcy. She was fine, she wanted to visit but they said it wouldn't be helpful to me. That it might bring back bad memories of that night. 

Right. I look in the mirror, touch my bandaged back and the horrors of that night flood my mind. 

Stitches and scars would be the only thing I would have to hold on to now. Carefully, I laid my hand on my shoulder, where some of my bandages were wrapped and felt the tears well up in my eyes. My hand tightened on the bandages, my nails biting into the cloth smoothly enough not to even make a ripping sound. 

This is what I get for all my hard work? 

Nightmares and scars? A lifetime of always jumping at shadows when I'm alone? This is what I deserve for being what? For being a mutant? For being _born_? 

A sharp cry of pain snapped my attention to the present. It took a minute to notice, but when I did I tore my hand from my shoulder. I was the one who had screamed, and inspecting my nails I notice a tinge of blood marring the tips. 

Blood and pain. Sums up my life really. 

I the palms of my hands into my eyes and pulled into a tight ball. Why did I wake up? Why couldn't I just die? 

"Kerry." My name, it sounded so foreign to me but the voice was familiar and had my stomach melting into cold fire. I didn't bother pulling my head up to meet his eyes, just allowed him to push me back and on to my side. I didn't protest of flinch when he lay down beside me and continued to pet my hair as I hide my face in my hands which were now pressed against his chest. 

I feel asleep again but not even _he_ could block out my nightmares. 

* * *

Dr. Hank didn't drag me back down to the medical lab, but he did think enough to have our little 'meeting' in an open area. Oh, like the middle of the bathroom. It was the middle of the day and only because I had to go to the bathroom really really bad did I drag myself out of my bed and into the wheelchair, across the hall, to the restroom where I was caught. Oh, don't worry, I was fully clothed and my hands were washed, but still a conference of my medical condition in the bathroom? 

"Kookie." He tried to smile but my permanent scowl froze that expression into oblivion. "Uh, I see you are still in therapy." I lowered my eyebrows even more. "Physical therapy, of course." 

I shrugged, and looked into the mirror again. Of course since I was sitting down, I could only see my shoulders up. I felt like something disgusting and horrible slithered into my stomach and was munching away the lining. The straight lines of my shoulders, and then nothing. Well, not nothing because the shower stalls were behind me…but no wings. 

No more wings. 

As if he read my mind, this is when he picked up the conversation. "I would like to discuss your condition with you, if you have the time." 

What else did I have to do? Run a marathon? Fly around the mansion? Oh, right, can't do that. Thank you for reminding me. "Sure." 

"First off, Kerry, I want you to know we did everything possible to salvage your wings. But they were so badly wounded…the layers of skin had been cut," hacked" away. Much of the muscle tissue was damaged, severed completely in most cases and your bone was broken and fractured all throughout the base of your wings." 

I bowed my head. The tears of memories and the loss came up to my eyes again. 

"And there is something else I want you to know." I cast him a glance, it was enough of a reaction to get him to talking. "As you probably have noticed, there have been some---rapid changes in your physical attributes." As long as I wasn't turning into a guy, I didn't really notice anything. "For instance. Your nails. They have seemed to become all claws, nothing new I know, but definitely the rate which they grew and their new thickness is unusual." 

I examined my the tips of my fingers boredly. Yes, so they were claws again. Who cares? 

"And there is the matter of your---fangs." That word capture my attention astonishingly well. "Your K-9s are unnaturally sharp and slightly longer than before." When did they get my dental record? Maybe Jack informed them about the inside of my mouth (only before the attack) since his tongue (oh stop gagging on me, we _are_ a couple…I think) visited there enough. 

"What about them?" My interest wasn't something that stayed long these days. My birthday is in two weeks and all I can manage to do is shrug about it. 

"I think they are compensation for your recent loss of flight." Dr. Hank began to clean his glasses with his sweater. He did that when he was stalling. I had nothing to do and no where to go, so let him stall. Finally though, once his glasses had been rubbed free of all whatever it was making them needed to be cleaned Dr. Hank coughed lightly and tried to break the news gently. "I don't think you will ever be able to grow your wings back." 

A brick over my head from ninety floors up would have been nicer to feel. Some where in me I had had strangled hope that my wings would return. I know I never said it out loud, but it was such a fragile hope that I was afraid if I spoke it, it would smash to the ground and disappear. 

"Why not?" My voice became raspy. "Mr. Warren's did." 

"True, but that is his natural mutation. As I've told you before, you're flight is a result of your advanced blood." Simple terms, simple words for the simple minded. "You're adrenaline of flight or fight has, obviously, acted out to where it will be willing more 'fight' than 'flight' than before." Most of what he said after that was hazy. 

I was never going to fly again. 

How can I live like this? I've tasted the freedom of the skies and now, now they say I'll never be able to do anything but stay on the ground? I can't handle this. Why did I listen to Darcy that night? Why didn't I just push Heather down and make her stop? 

If I hadn't been so pathetic, I would still be able to fly. 

I would still be alive. 

* * *

I was shoved back into the weight room an attempt to get me to work my balance back into existence. My shoulders were sore and still healing and yet they made me do what they wanted me to do. Mr. Kurt and Mr. Warren were trying their best to be positive but my words and glares acting like darts which popped their little 'happy happy' balloons. 

"What if we promised you some cookies? Or ice cream?" 

I bite down and strangled out a reply as I leaned heavily upon the bar, glaring at them. "Then I'd hear about how fat I'm getting. And then they'd make me come here _more_ often to be submitted to perky torture." They blinked at me, slightly clueless. "No thanks." I mumbled out. 

"What will get you to try?" Mr. Kurt urged. 

I gave a sickening laugh and a frigid smile. There was no real reason to answer. I wanted what was most obvious. My wings. Heather's life ripped from her, but not her life, her very reason for being. She took my flight, I want to take her means of happiness as well. I want to walk, yes, but I only want to walk when I have reassurance that I won' t have, oh let's say, my _arms_ taken from me. 

Take, take, take. It was the only thing this world ever did for me. _Take_ and was it nice to give me something in return? Oh sure! It gave me perky peers and pure out hell. 

A sudden burn surged in my mind and in a nanosecond, I was on the floor, panting heavily. Oh great, don't tell me that I am going to have a brain problem now too! 

Take my sanity! I don't care anymore! Take it and leave me to live out the rest of my days in a padded white room with buff body guards and lots of pointed, medicine filled needles. Just the thought of that had my laughter dropping another pitch. Even as Mr. Kurt 'bamfed' me to the medical wing to get Dr. Hank to check me out because blood started to trickle from my nose. I laughed at. 

I am so screwed up. 

* * *

I lay on my bed the same night, staring up at the black ceiling. The pain in my healing back from the weight I was putting on it made it feel like someone kept jabbing hot pokers in my back. I hadn't felt my backbone against the bed in over a year. 

Darcy had announced that she was leaving tomorrow and all I could do was poke at my peas on my plate. Didn't they know I _hated_ those things by now? 

After dinner, I had taken the elevator up to the library and wheeled my way into my room. I pulled myself into bed and have been lying here ever since. Perhaps I should attempt to do something constructive like work on my balance, but my heart wasn't in it. 

It wasn't around here. It was dead and buried back in Pennsylvania. When we were alone, I had half interestedly asked why she was leaving before she said she would on my birthday. Darcy stared at me for the longest time. I don't know what she was looking for but apparently she didn't find it on me. 

"I can't stand it when you look at me like that." No, it wasn't me who said that. I should have been the one to say it, but it was Darcy. "With those eyes." 

I gave her a half hearted glare. "Want me to replace them with some else's?" 

"No." Then silence started to play solitaire around us. She didn't look at me and didn't move away. Rolling these, I'm guessing, disturbing eyes I huffed out a question of why. Her own eyes snapped to me and seemed to be ready to get into a fight about it. "I want them to be you again!" 

I gave the icy smirk I've been prone to give lately. The one which would have Miss Frost running for her mink coat. "I'm not too good with metaphors. You'll have to speak plainer than that." 

Darcy appeared to be struggling with her temper, a rare thing indeed. "You---you are just like then." Her fires got cooled by some mysterious matter. Her voice came out softer, almost caring to the point where I would almost care. "Your eyes are just like back then. After Daddy died." 

I flinched at that physically and my anger was steadily rising. 

"You had this empty look. Like you were completely dead!" She stamped her foot for emphasis. 

"News flash, kid. I _was_ dead not too long ago, remember?" I narrowed my eyes. Did she forget why I was recently dead? They say if it hadn't been for Jean and Dr. Hank, I'd still be dead. For some reason, I think I'd been better off that way. At least I wouldn't have to live with how ungrateful my little sister was being. 

"B-but you got a second chance! You should be wanting to live! Not be a zombie! I can't stand it when you look so empty!" 

I. Was. Mad. "Then run away from the big ugly monster, Darcy." I snapped out, and turned the wheelchair to leave, but she grabbed the handles on the back and jerked me to stay. "I don't have anything left to say to you." My words were (cold and harsh), hopefully, getting the point across. "If you want to leave, I'm not going to stop you. Always remember though, you sailed through your troubles because there is always going to be some fool to take the harsher side of life for you." 

The strangled gasp would normally have stopped me, but I didn't care. How many times did I have to say that? 

Darcy would be leaving in the morning. Jack had asked what was wrong with us. Darcy had been crying all afternoon and it didn't even effect me. Did I blame her for being in the house when Heather was attacking me? Not really, some but not really. It was my fault for being so stupid to believe I could get away with something like that. 

Do I blame Heather? Hell yes. That insane psycho freak is probably wondering around free while I'm trapped in the burning inferno of dark emotions. I cause those around me pain by being dead and even more so by being breathing but 'dead'. 

Something nags at me. The idea that I shouldn't hurt them. That I'm a self-proclaimed protector and therefore shouldn't be shooting at them with my lack of caring. My bitter laughter turns into the need to scream. I just want to scream my throat raw. 

Then the tears start. I'm laughing and crying at the same time. Yeah, tell me I'm sane now. 

If I'm already lost to the sane world, who cares if I scream? 

So I did. 

* * *

It's been a good ten days since I left the med lab. My birthday is exactly in one week. And I've had a breakthrough. Oh goody, I was wondering when I'd finally discover what planet I came from. 

Okay, so that's not what I meant. Two nights ago I broke down completely and cried myself sick, screamed myself hoarse and clawed at my bandages until I ripped not only them open, but also my stitches. I reopened my wounds without even knowing it. That night they had me strapped to the bed in the medical lab, but I kept breaking the straps (thank you super strength) and finally they had to give me enough tranquilizers to knock out the population of Los Angles. 

But, now that I'm awake again, Professor says he thinks that was my 'coming to terms with what happened' breakthrough. Sometimes it takes hours and other times it takes months. All that took to undo myself was to think. That's why I shouldn't' be allowed to think. I might not endanger other people, but I sure do a number on myself. 

Right away they shoved me back into the weight room with that dumb bar and tried to get me to walk. My temper might be currently dissolved, but it doesn't mean I'm over it. How can anyone think that'? Jack had to spend almost every night in my room because I couldn't sleep with the lights off, afraid Heather might be hiding, ready to finish the job. Every time I go near the kitchen I lock up and quickly make my way past. Yesterday, Mr. Remy had been ch--chopping something and heard me knock something over. He came out with the knife in hand. 

I started to stutter and attempt to get away as fast as a lame person could. The wheelchair tipped over and I scooted away from him as much as I could until Miss Rogue came up behind him, saw me and threw him into the kitchen. 

And I'm suppose to have some sort of breakthrough!? 

Yeah, a breakthrough into a new type of insanity maybe. 

Every time I think about Heather and what happened (which is just all the time) my nose starts to drip blood. My anger flares, as does my depression and suddenly my nose decides I have too much blood in me and starts to get runny with red. 

Perfect. Now that lady will make me bleed to death twice. 

* * *

Two weeks since I got out of the medical lab and did I stumble upon the mother of all secrets they've kept from me. My face twists into a sardonic smile. Fitting way to describe it really. I have been down here for two hours, hacking my way into certain personal files, one of which was an opened file of the Professor's. 

I devoured it. Why? Because it had my last name on the top of it (D'Mon for those who have forgotten). That washed out anger, thickened to a foam of raging, blind lividness. 

"Kerry, what are you doing in here?" Jack asked, a small laugh in his voice. "Trying to become some type of mutant ba---" He clamped his mouth shut. 

"Bat?" I finished coldly. "No, you need _wings_ to be a bat." My smile was anything but humorous. 

There was only a slight pause. "What's wrong?" All warmth left the room and his voice. I sat in the wheelchair in front of the terminal in the control room. My body shivered with barely suppressed rage. How could they keep this from me? 

My teeth ground painfully into each other. The top were forging with the bottom and I didn't care. 

"Did you know." 

I heard him move closer. Good. I wouldn't want to chase down any of my victims. "Know what?" 

A smirk, as chilled as a penguin in deep freeze, spread across my face as I faced him with narrowed eyes. "That that witch, Heather, was a _mutant_?" 


	96. St Loys by the Dozen

Lucky Me Chapter 96

* * *

Author's Note: So sorry about the heavy delay but my life has been turning on its head and falling over. Projects, papers and of course that lovely banquet! ^.^ I'm so excited! But the character 'Mr. Poovey, the history teacher from hell' was based off a guy I know whose last name is, get this, 'Poovey'. As ironic as it would seem, he's my 'date/escort/whatever'. Oh, and sorry if this chapter is somewhat boring. It is meant to be somber, come on, Kerry just had something tragic happen to her. She's recovering still.

* * *

I was beyond livid. Fire was ready to flow from my eyes, ears and fingertips. Jack stood there, completely stupefied by the information. I knew then he didn't know. I wheeled myself straight to the Professor's office. My mouth was ready to kill. 

Pushing the doors open, the Professor looked up from where he had been staring to study me. I clamped my teeth together. 

"Kookie, what may I do for you?" 

"A mutant." I spat out, wheeling myself fully into the room. I only stopped to slam the door shut. 

"Yes?" He seemed to be slightly amused by my outburst. 

"Heather is a mutant." 

His shoulders went stiff, he sat up straight and set his face into a stern scowl. "How did you come to know this?" 

"I read it in _your_ files. You never went to Acola to get me! You went because of my mom!" I screeched the last word. My heart was pounding and my brain was smashing itself against my skull. "You never told me!" 

"Because, perhaps, I knew this is the way you would react?" Professor gave me an even look while I cussed at him with my glare. "If I had told you before, you would have been upset --" 

"Like I'm not _now_? You could have told me at any time and I at least would have that to deal with _alone_. Now, NOW! I have to deal with this, the fact you kept it from me, my sister hating me, Heather trying to kill me, succeeding and waking up without my wings! You were in the _wrong_, Professor!" 

"Perhaps I was, but do you think shouting at me will make it any better?" He was trying to get me calmed down. Talking to me like a toddler who just spilt grape juice on the white rug was not going to get me calmed. 

"It's sure as heck is making me feel better." I took a deep breath. Trying to block out the hurt I felt from him hiding this. Why didn't they tell me? "Who else knew?" 

"It doesn't matter." 

I gripped the armrests so tightly, they moaned under my strength. "It does to me." I wanted to know who _knew_. All the people who I thought were trustworthy---some of them knew what Heather was and didn't _tell_ me. 

"No one else but myself. It wasn't information I wished to spread." Professor leaned back in his chair. 

"How considerate." I muttered. 

"Your mother knew she was a mutant. Was full aware of the fact by the time I contacted her. When I requested that she come to New York for a brief period, so that we could help her learn her abilities, she refused. Heather insisted that she was needed and putting her powers to use where she was." 

I read all that in the file. Makes Heather almost sound likable. But after my wings, after the attack, it would take a lifetime to get over her betrayal. "What was her power?" 

"She has the ability of precognition. She probably was full aware she was going to attack you before you ever set foot into the house." 

Oh my---I felt like my stomach had been punched, pulled out and shoved down my throat. "And you knew I left." It was a statement, not a question. I had remembered that the cameras monitor the front gate twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. 

"Yes, I did." He gave what I would called a distasteful sigh. "But you can not blame me for what happened. Do not look at me like that, you know very well that is what you were formulating." 

"It's not right." I shoot out coldly. "It's not fair." 

"When did anyone say life was going to be fair?" Professor slung back at me. Sometimes I know he has a heart full of love and compassion and other warm and fuzzy feelings that makes a person retch when they read about it, but sometimes I get to see the nasty streak. This is the nasty streak and getting nastier. 

"I thought that's what you were trying to do here. Make life fair. How can you be such a hypocrite? Fight to take the blindfolds off of peoples eyes while trying to keep it on others? The very people you are, ha, 'teaching'?" 

For the first time since I can remember, the Professor got mad. His dream, you have to understand like I didn't then, gets slammed a lot from bad guys and from everyone who has an ounce of sense in them. "If you want to _die_, Kookie then by all means do so. You are living, but you are not alive, much like your sister told me you would be. You want to be _better_ than your mother? You want to be the winner in all of this? Then stop acting like you haven't been given a second chance. Let you mother win, live in your anger and misery. Then I won't be the one to blame for any 'blindfold' you wear." 

I got so mad, but couldn't do anything about it. He pegged me and I couldn't fire back because it hurt to hear him say this. I guess I was use to the idea that he was the one to beat up when things didn't go right. You know, the higher up where you could pass the buck? 

My lips were molded together in a line and where white from the pressure. I jerkily turned myself around and rolled myself out of his office and down to the weight room because that's where I'd figure Jack would be. 

That's where I finally broke down (again). 

I was more upset that the Professor words seemed to be right. Heather was going to win. 

That's when I started to fight for life again. 

But it was there I also realized I couldn't stay around the grounds of the mansion. I had to get away, even it was for a little while, I had to get away. 

* * *

"Are you sure you aren't doing this because you're mad at me for some unexplainable reason?" Jack asked for the millionth time and I had to bite down a growl. I told him, again, that this wasn't his fault. The fault came from almost two years of being put through heck and back. He had been pouty and then, finally, helped me get some things ready. 

Under my own request, I had asked for crutches instead of a wheelchair. Originally, they had given me the crutches but I wouldn't use them and thus stay stationary until someone came to drag or carry me to wherever it was I was apparently needed. 

At first I had considered running to Alexis' house or even Arty's new place but I knew better. If I went to Alexis' house, she'd ask a million questions and also as Adam's girlfriend (shocked the heck out of me) he was always over there. Arty was healing or healed but Darcy was going to be there. I couldn't face her, not until I had my brain in tact, my legs working and my pride swallowed to apologize for being so evil towards her. So, not in this lifetime apparently. 

I had finally come to the out-on-a-limb conclusion to use a phone number I never dialed before, Diana's. I had met her only briefly over that boring luncheon with Mr. Warren and Frosty, the White Witch of Stilettos. I nearly hung on the third time a man answered the phone saying 'St. Loy's residence' but thought better of it. I mean, surely the rich have caller ID and he'd probably cuss me out if I hung up _again_. 

Though I felt like an awkward, geeky girl asking the most popular cheerleader to help with my hair or something, Diana seemed enthralled that I had remembered her. _Me_ remember _her_! I was surprised she hadn't gone 'who?' when I said my name. 

Scott finally agreed after I had looked as pathetic as I could (didn't take much effort these days) to drive, but Mr. St. Loy insisted that their limo pick me up. Well, I should say his least that's what Diana and his secretary said. I'm guessing this is a new secretary, probably easily manipulated by any one that has the last name St. Loy. The hardest part (besides packing and promising to keep up on my homework) was keeping where I was going a semi-secret. 

It just wouldn't be right to have Emma, Mr. Warren and Mr. Jean-Paul all show up one night to 'visit'. 

When the car pulled up, I awkwardly put my stuff out for the driver to take. It wasn't going to be long, just a week but thanks the Jean's 'help' I was packed for several months. 

Nervously, I looked back at the house and my heart, soggy from emotion, broke a little bit more to see Jack standing in the window. It probably killed him to be on the outside looking in, not really able to help me and not really knowing what to do to help. 

"Are you ready, miss?" The chauffer questioned, and I nodded. As I was about to enter into the car, I glanced once more at the window and quickly (feeling silly the whole while) blew him a kiss and offered a small smile. I didn't see his reaction, I just hope it was positive. 

* * *

"HI!" Diana had basically tried to choke the life out of me. "I'm so glad you decided to come! I've been stuck here with these stinky boys for too long. " 

Whoever one of the 'boys' were she was referring too, stood behind her and snorted at the insult. "Nice way to make introductions." Diana's blond hair had grown significantly over a few months. The last time I had seen her it was short and very Q-tip like close to her head. Now? Now it hit to her waist. I had to beat back an image of her applying 'miracle grow' to her scalp. 

The 'boy' looked me up and down and I narrowed my eyes. I had been 'examined' by enough people both physically and visually over the last few days that I felt like decking anyone who did that again. My eyes narrowing was considered (in my book) as a fair warning before I dislocated their neck from their shoulders. 

"Did you hurt yourself?" Diana questioned, finally realizing that I was wobbling on crutches. 

"No. Someone else had that pleasure." 

She smiled and ordered the chauffer-turned-bellhop to put my bags in some room. With that done, she showed me to the 'den' which looked more like a bar/living room/theater than anything else. I felt out of place here. Of course I would! If I had a brain cell in my head to dedicate to thinking things through I would have realized that I was poor compared to--to these _billionaires_. 

Whoever the 'boy' was behind her, seemed to be reprimanding her as I sat on the couch waiting for the drink she went to fetch. I couldn't really tell what they were saying since it wasn't in English. 

"Fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE!" Diana huffed, giving me the drink and throwing herself into one of the chairs. "Kookie, this is my," she ticked away the numbers on her fingers and then shrugged. "This is my brother, one of many." 

I looked back up at the boy who was currently glaring at a Diana who had her tongue sticking out. "My name is Drace St. Loy." 

"Drace?" I asked, mostly to myself. Donovan, Diana and Drace? "Does everyone's name begin with 'D'?" 

"Yes." The siblings sighed out together in annoyance. "But it is fun," Diana continued, perking up. "To simple scream 'D' across the house and see them all poke their heads out like that 'Whack a Mole' game in the arcades." 

"We use to until you drove the go-cart down the hall actually attacking us." Drace fought back. I decided it wise to stay out of this. 

"Oh come on, it wasn't like you had a _date_ or anything to worry about. And Diego's hair grew back…eventually." 

The fight went on from there. Apparently Diana was either an airhead and a jokester or just an airhead. She jumped up and down trying to make her points and her brother just kept brushing her off as a 'baby girl'. I started to laugh when they got into a strangle hold. 

All humor left when a new voice came through the air. "Drace." He froze instantly. "Diana." She stopped her screaming and both of them pulled apart, staggering a bit and stared up towards the doorway. Turning, I felt those pesky bugs come to life in my blood. "Is this anyway to act in front of a guest?" 

Donovan. Donovan in all his gorgeous glory. The both muttered and mumbled out explanations and apologies but he didn't seemed phased at all. 

"We were just playing around." Diana offered at last. "And he started it," she tacked on in a small voice. 

"I do not want to see these antics in the den again. Am I clear?" I wasn't even doing anything, but the way his voice was smooth and cold at the same time made me want to obey. I guess he's the oldest and was use to putting up with their goofing off. The both let out a 'yes, sir' and then were told to go and prepare for diner. 

"But what about Kookie?" Diana whimpered like a five-year old. I sat stoke still wishing she would just leave me out of this. 

"I will entertain her while you prepare for diner." He replied coolly. My mind was apparently in the gutter as the world 'entertain' sent an image of him doing a stripe tease on the coffee table to my mind. Oh perfect, now I'm blushing. 

They both headed for their rooms or personal beauticians or wherever rich people disappear to for getting 'cleaned up'. Maybe I'm over doing it, but I just can't see anyone of these people washing their hands with soap and water. It just seems too plain. 

"Miss Summers." Donovan, who was sitting across from me now, didn't offer any smile. I felt self-conscious and briefly wondered how much I was out of it not to even notice he had moved across the room! Jack would have just rolled his eyes and said 'typical' or something. "I hope to find you in good health." 

"Y-yes, sir." I stuttered out, feeling that the way Diana talked to him was the way I should talk to him. "A-and you?" 

"Very well." He answer curtly. Another strained minute and he smiled slightly. One of those private, tempting smiles. It was like he had a huge secret and wasn't going to share it with anyone but man he looked _good_. "There is no reason for you to be nervous, Miss Summers." 

I swallowed hard. "Nervous?" Just because I can't breathe and my palms are sweating like mad doesn't mean I'm nervous. A sad thought crossed my mind. My feathers would be ruffling if I still had them. I always thought it was amazing the way they responded to my emotions subconsciously. 

He must have noticed my sudden slump. "Is there something distressing you?" I didn't answer right away, but he did. Oh man, did he ever. "Is it because the loss of your wings?" 

My eyes bugged out of my head at that. HOW did he KNOW!? 

Before I could ask, the dumb waiter/butler/whatever came and announced dinner was being served. He nodded and walked me (dumbfound) to the dining room.

* * *

It took me till the last day of my stay (which was, to say the least, insane in a disturbingly interesting way) to get to talk to Mr. St. Loy again. We had all been in one of the many rooms and Drace said something to Di in another language. From the way she started to jump up and down and then grab a pillow and whack him thoroughly with it, I'm guessing it wasn't something nice. All Donovan had to say was their names and they 'high tailed' it out of the room. 

A few minutes walked by and several bangs, along with several sighs and curious glances before I mustered up the courage to even get my voice to squeak. 

"H-how did you know?" He had been reading the newspaper before I asked, and the paper, like a curtain bat the end of a play, slowly lowered until his silver eyes locked with mine. 

I felt like a bug. 

"How did I come to know what?" 

I was a bug doing a fish impression. Mouth open, mouth shut. Great exercise. Too bad my brain was so outta shape it ran out of energy to be used after the initial question. I can fuss at the Professor now (without sounding like my voice is breaking too often) and Scott (then hide for a week) but when it came to this guy, he had me completely tongue tied. 

"Ah-about m-my wings." He probably thought I was the biggest dork in the world. Heck, right now I thought that. I can't believe that I was so spineless! 

During my mental fight, I had looked away. Slowly, I met his eyes again and this time, he had a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

"The last time we encountered one another, whatever technology you were wearing was failing. I saw your black wings in the window." At least he was honest. I remember freaking out when I realized that my wings were painfully visible. 

"How did you know they were missing?" The question was a ton softer than the previous one. 

It was his turn to remain silent for a period of time. Nervousness began to eat away at me, why wasn't he answering? 

"I could noticed your bandages underneath your shirt. The crutches were no doubt an aid to help you regain your balance. Am I wrong, Miss Summers?" My bug doing a fish impression was going to be perfected by the end of this visit, which was tomorrow. "I am sorry if I have offended you in any way, but you did ask of me an answer and that is what I gave." 

Nodding, I turned back to my hands, watching them shake. Great. 

"Now, if you will permit me, I would ask of you an answer." I glanced up, his eyes were very serious (like they knew any other expression) and staring a hole in me. "What was the cause of their lose?" 

For some reason, I didn't brush him off or try to escape. No, this time I just gushed out the entire story (leaving out the X-Men parts of course, I mean, how many times a day did they drill that into our heads not to utter a word about who we were?). It took almost an hour because I kept laughing bitterly, tear up or just find it so hard to breathe and talk at the same time. 

Donovan sat there, his paper neatly folded in his lap, his silver eyes never leaving me once. I was surprised that he didn't yawn or roll his eyes. He didn't just say 'okay, shut-up' or anything. Just kept looking at me, acknowledging my presence and I think my words. At the end of the story telling, he relaxed into the seat, propping on hand under his chin with his pointer finger along the side of his face, and the elbow resting on the arm rest. 

"I guess you probably really didn't want to hear all that." I finished lamely. 

"If I did not wish to 'hear all that', I would not have questioned you on the matter." Donovan replied coolly. 

"But, I mean---that was the most round about way to give you a one sentence answer possible." 

"No, indeed it was not." This man spoke as if he had fallen out of a Jane Austin novel. "It sometimes aids one's healing to have an objective ear to hear one's problems. Since I rarely have the pleasure of meeting with you, to you I serve adequately for the suggested objective person." He tipped his head slightly to the side, white blond hair shifting slightly. "When surrounded by those who care for you, it becomes very hard to distinguish the difference between your thoughts and theirs." 

What can I say? He made sense. I closed my eyes, trying to let my frazzled and weakly operating mind soak in this new view. 

"From the information you have provided, I would assume you have already come to the same conclusion whether you consciously realize you have or not." I blinked at him. It was like my brain was trying wipe the glasses (my eyes) to make sure that speck was really there. Me? Figure out something 'deep'? "If I may be as bold as to say, this is the reason for your being here now." 

I blanched. 

"You could not find peace at your home, so you sought refuge some place you did not know. Some place where your past was unknown and the people surrounding you were not dear enough to you to cause you to feel guilty." 

For only being thirty (if EVEN that) he sure sounded like a long winded fortune cookie. "Guilty? About what?" 

"You would, naturally, feel guilty about causing those who are around you, your loved ones to empathize with you. Empathize to the point they share your anger and depression." He considered me a moment longer. "Forgive me, Miss Summers, if I have said too much." 

I blinked at him a few more times and then lowered my head. 

Smart and beautiful. Not to mention _rich_. Why wasn't this guy married again? 

"No," I breathed. "It's okay. Maybe this is what I needed to hear." Shyly, I smiled up at him. "Do you have any more pearls of wisdom?" I could string them together and make a necklace or something. 

He smiled, really smiled. "Only this, you might lose everything you try to save but in return you are able save everything you try to protect." 

When I asked him what he meant, he excused himself from the room and didn't come back. 

Okay, that was just _not_ right. 

* * *

The next day I was dropped off at the mansion door step. Diana had pleaded with me to stay, but I knew I had to be with my 'family' for my birthday. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before because Donovan's words were echoing through my mind. 

He was right, he was so right. 

I have no idea what he was right about besides the need to escape and vent. As for the other half, I haven't the first clue how to decipher that. 

It was close to eleven on a Saturday night so most everyone was either dating someone or absorbed in their televisions. The chauffeur offered to go and 'fetch' someone and I had a mental image of the driver with his teeth sunk into someone's leg, dragging them out of the door while he was on all fours. 

"No, that's okay." I replied, sighing as I reached across to pick up the crutches. But as my fingers grazed the wood, I felt myself being lifted up and out of the car. "What the--!" I twisted myself to get comfortable and to get a good look at the face of the person I was going to clobber (after they put me down, cause come on, why say 'no' to a free ride? Not to mention those crutches gave me rashes underneath my arms.). 

"Hey, Kerry." JACK?! Where'd he come from!? And he was going to take me into the mansion?! Didn't he realize what lectures would wait if Jean saw us together?! "If you could get the bags, Jeeves." 

"Wh-what are you doing!?" I blurted out as he took me into the mansion where, thank goodness, no one was around. 

"Taking you to your room. I'm sure after all the excitement of the past few days you are probably just so worn out." 

"Are you kidding!" I shot back. "They had, like a million servants!" 

He gave me a look. One which shut me up. 

Fine, let him be all noble and stuff. When he carried me all the way to my room (without anyone around. What did he do? Lock them up in the basement?) and put me on the bed, he smiled. 

"Where is everyone?" 

"Gone. Bit mission. Took everyone. Even Julie." 

I showed him my fish impression. "What?" 

"They were _really_ desperate." 

"Then why didn't you go? 

The bashful grin appeared. "Because I knew you were coming home so I faked being sick." There was a light pink blush crossing both cheeks and the bridge of his nose. 

As I laid myself down on my bed, I couldn't help bit my lower lip to suppress a smile. 

Who needed Donovan St. Loy when I had _him_. 


	97. Out of the Box

Lucky Me Chapter 97

* * *

Author's Note: Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry!!!!! 

* * *

"Come over here so I can hurt you." 

"Such a tempting offer, and under your hands I'm sure it'd be fun but," he sighed. "No." 

I was back at the bar, trying to use my nonexistent heat vision to melt my self-proclaimed teacher of balance since Mr. Kurt and Mr. Warren had gone on a mission. I came ---home yesterday and bright and early this morning I found myself ungracefully dumped in the weight room. When the fuzz had been scraped off my brain, I saw Jack smiling (smirking with good intent) at me when he told me to walk. 

In the past two hours the only thing productive I've done is come up with several different ways to hurt him. I had gripped the bar and tried repeatedly but it just wasn't working without the bar. Fake walk I could do, but the full, actual walking? Forget it. Mr. Warren offered that besides my 'attitude' it had been that my arms were still sore even after healing. 

Did this guy care? 

The way he kept taunting me made me think probably not. 

"You're a real creep you know." 

"I'm a caring creep." He shrugged and started to flip through the newspaper (probably from a week ago or something). 

"If you aren't going to _do_ anything, then why don't you just leave?" The words came out harsh but I was tired and increasingly sore. 

"Because you'd just sit on the floor feeling sorry for yourself if I left." He gave me a look, "and besides, if I'm here spurning you on to a criminal offense, you might actually want to walk to strangle me. As you keep threatening." 

I hauled myself to my feet again, steadied while my eyes never left him. "You seem in a hurry to be in pain." 

He had the nerve to smirk. "You can barely walk, I don't think it would be too hard to out distance you." 

"You are _not_ an encouragement." I ground out, taking a shaking step while my hand was still gripped tightly on the bar. 

"I'm meant to be annoying, not encouraging." He flipped the page, "And since you moved a foot in an hour, I'm doing a pretty good job." 

"And if I sit here and refuse to do anything?" 

"I'll get the cattle prod." He took one look at my shocked face and cracked up. "Learn to take a joke, Summers." 

One more step. "I got butchered, ha ha." All humor left the room. "And now I have to relearn to live. Oh, hahaha." Another step. "I can take that joke." Another shaky step, hand only hovering above the bar. "I'm living that joke." 

"Kerry…" 

"And I'm about to add homicide to my punch line." I gave him a wicked smile. The tension eased up. 

"Oh come, Kerry. Your stubborn. Use it." When he flipped open his paper up, I took off my shoe and threw it at him. It connected with him, right in the torso. "Hey!" 

I stuck my tongue out, he rolled his eyes and my torture continued. 

* * *

I woke up that night to someone shaking me. All I could remember from my dream is that someone had been trying to drown me. They were holding me down and pushing my head further and further into the water…my lungs were like sponges, taking in so much… 

Is it any wonder why I decked Jack after a dream like that? 

He was trying to wake me up when I, still half in a dream, lashed out and sent him into the wall. When the water disappeared and the air came into my lungs I knew something was wrong. Better to say, something wasn't wrong. 

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I blearily made out Jack groaning and slumped on what use to be my computer desk. 

"JACK!" I screamed, scrambling out of bed (only to forget I couldn't walk and ended up more or less staggering and falling to him). "I'm so sorry!" 

"Y-you were right." He smiled weakly. "As soon as I got near you, you'd hurt me." 

Though I was worried, I couldn't help but laugh. 

"What were you doing in here?" 

"You were screaming like a cat shoved into an oven." He explained, clambering to his feet. After he was semi-steady, he helped me to my feet and staggered us back to the bed. 

"Why do I have a feeling you are speaking from experience?" 

He smirked. 

I thought he was just going to 'tuck' me into bed, but then he got in the bed and I just blinked at him as if I was hallucinating. "Uh…" 

"I'm not going to loose any more sleep because you keep screaming. Since you got hurt, I've been sleeping so light that when your cat sneezes, it wakes me up." He frowned a bit, "and Lucy had a cold." 

"That would explain why you shoved him in the oven." 

He smirked. "I never said I did that." 

I laid down on my stomach. Laying on my back still scared me. My wings were still suppose to be there, not having them there was creepy. I buried my face in my pillow and pretended they were still there, twitching with exhaustion after flying with Mr. Warren all day, but it didn't work. 

I could dream of flying every night, but it didn't stop me from waking up and having to face the reality that I lost them for good. 

I was never meant to be an angel. 

* * *

"This is inhumane!" I pounded my fists on the floor and yelled for all I was worth. Jack chuckled like the creep he was. "This is wrong!" I screamed again. 

"Then, again, come and get me." 

"I _can't_!" I grumbled, pulling the towel closer around me. "You are a complete and utter pervert!" 

"And yet you love me." He taunted from some where down the dark stair well. "The only way to get to me is to get up and walk down." 

"You could get in _so_ much trouble if Scott was here!" I threatened, he snorted. Oh yeah, that's mature. Try to get phantom dad to back me up. Sheesh, I have become pathetic. This creep had thrown all my clothes down the steps into the laundry room. Then, after figuring out that I stumbled my way to the elevator to get to the ground floor, he ran down stairs and started to taunt me. 

"Give me my clothes! This is illegal!" I was frustrated, and normally I liked our twisted little game but this was going a tad too far. 

"Nah, nah!" He shot back. 

My head was throbbing already because of this little incident, and the more upset I became, the harder it was to fight off my migraine. I've been having them less frequently, either that or I had grown accustomed to the constant throbbing and ache. Like a rock finally coming to a rest at the bottom of a dark, scary lake. 

I was on my knees, one hand grasping my towel, the other holding the door knob. I felt the usual jerk of my body, then the haziness in my sight and I knew what was going to come next. Two seconds later, the yellow towel I was protecting my modesty with soaked up a small droplet of blood. 

My nose was bleeding again. 

It was the last thing I remember before I passed out again. 

* * *

"Nnngh," smart, intelligent words. Just wish I knew what language it was. Instantly I knew I wasn't laying on the ground in front of the laundry dungeon. Sitting up wearily, I pressed a hand to my forehead, the traces of my recent brain squeeze were still being fought back. 

"I wouldn't move too much more, if you want to keep a clean reputation." Jack's voice was teasing, but there was genuine concern in it as well. 

That's when it dawned on me that I was still, roughly, wearing my towel and laying in my bed. With an 'eep' I quickly dropped to my back and had my comforter up to my nose, eyes wide and waiting to adjust to the dark. 

"How long have you been having your nose bleeds?" Jack came from the dark corner he was lurking in and sat beside me. 

My natural instinct was to lie to him. There's no reason for him to worry over something pointless like my nose bleeding. It was just an after effect of being raped of my wings. "Just this one." 

His eyes cut me deep. "You're lying." 

I gave him a flat stare. "That's your opinion and you have no way to prove that I'm lying." 

He threw something at me, and after carefully feeling it I determined it was come clothes. I told him to get out and he agreed as I dressed. Once I was finished, I let my shoulders sag. It was hard trying to shoulder the world, but I still had to smile. Still had to make sure they didn't hurt. 

So with a sleepy smile, I laid back down on my bed (only I realized it wasn't my bed, but his) and called him back in. It didn't take us long to settle into one another and fall asleep. Anything was better than him asking those dumb questions I couldn't answer. 

* * *

There is something to be said about little voices running around, hopping and screaming like a banshee in your mind. Mine was, oh was mine ever. I stirred around three in the morning (I know this because I checked the clock, groaned and decided to go back to sleep). It never once occurred to me that I might have been woken up due to some foreign noise in the middle of the night. 

I felt Jack's warm arm draped across my back, and felt safe enough to ignore the growing commotion. 

Just as I was about to go cloud hopping once again, it hit me. 

There were other voices in the hall and they were only coming closer. 

Panic wrapped it's arms around me and giggled madly in my lap. Flipping over, Jack's arm was around my waist when it happened. He pulled me closer, his lips right next to my neck. That was the last moment of sanity. 

The door opened like the gates of hell were coming to call but trust me a demon would have been more pleasant. Because of who came through that door was the last one who needed to see me tangled up in my boyfriend's arms, with _his_ clothes on (found this out later) and him with no shirt on. 

Jack sat bolt up right, I tried to hide on the sheets as Scott stood in the doorway. His mouth was open, his visor glowing menacingly as and then it his him. Oh man, did it ever. 

"What the hell do you think your doing with my daughter, _Drake_!" 


	98. ScottFree?

Lucky Me

Chapter 98

* * *

Author's Note: Mwahahahahahha! Yes, I know I took forever and I could give a long list of reasons why but I won't because I know y'all don't probably read these things anyway. But let me tell ya, I think this is going to be an interesting summer. -sighs- I have to decide whether or not to drop French as my second minor because I am not catching it as easily as I would like and it is going to make me graduate a semester later (that and being lazy for the past 6 semesters…) . Oh! And let us not forget the eternal struggle with 99% of females (for some reason I made Kerry immune to this) which is the battle of weight. Although there are many of my friends who would promise pain at this declaration, what can I say? I'm female therefore I think am fat! Mwahahahahaha!

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing with my daughter, _Drake_?" 

Bobby shot up quickly, mouth dropping while I was trying to dissolve into the mattress like a puddle of milk into a sponge. Before I could crawl under the comforter and die, Bobby choose to sign his death warrant. 

"S-Scott, it's not what it looks like!" 

Sure, you're half dressed, I'm in _your_ clothes and it's not what it looks like. Riiiiight not even a blind man would buy that one! 

"Not what it looks like?" Dad asked, adding a little scoff to his voice. "It looks like two of you are keeping warm in your bed." 

"Uh---it's not as bad as it looks?" 

"Get out of that bed, Kerry." I flinched. "Now." 

"I-I can't walk yet." I tried to hide but the covers were ripped away from me and Scott picked me up with one swift move. He picked me up bridal style and considering how baggy the clothes I was wearing were, I felt like they were about to make me indecent. If that was to happen, boy would Bobby-Jack would be trouble. Er, more trouble. "Th-this works too." 

"Y-you aren't going to tell Jean are you? I'm going to catch hell from her if you do." Bobby was looking after his own interest. Great. I guess he was looking after both of us, but at this moment I was glad someone was thinking. 

"Tell Jean?" Scott's voice sounded almost humorous. "If I did, you wouldn't be the only one getting an earful." 

My jaw dropped as he whirled around and marched me out the door in his arms. 

"Y-you knew?" 

Scott snorted. "Of course I did. Bobby is transparent and he's one of my oldest friends." 

"W-why didn't you ever say anything?" 

"Because if I did," He opened my door. "I would never hear the end of it." 

As he dropped me on my bed, I was still trying to get my voice to stop hiding and get my question out. "S-so you aren't mad?" 

He smirked, "are you asking if I approve?" 

"Er, yeah?" He shrugged. "Why not?" Then his eyes flashed red behind the visor. "As long as he doesn't make me a grandfather." 

My face turned this lovely purple shade. "W-we haven't! Won't!" 

"Good. Keep that mentality." He then turned and left. 

I was sitting there with my mouth on my Oreo sheets. After all this time worrying---he knew! 

Lucy meowed. 

My attention snapped to the cat. 

"What?" 

He meowed again. 

"Oh shut-up." The cat was judging me!

* * *

"Happy birthday!" Daisy bounced into my room and I about died on the spot. I sat up so fast that Lucy landed with a thump on the ground. 

"Huh? Wha--?" 

She flounced on my bed. "It's your b-day! You are officially 18!" 

I dropped my face back into my pillow. Daisy made this clicking sound with her tongue and mentioned about how _eighteen_ year olds were suppose to be mature and perfect or some other teen magazine blah like that. 

Pointing towards the door with my outstretched hand she, I think, got the hint and huffed as she slammed the door behind her. 

It was my birthday, big deal! Didn't mean a lot to me at the moment unless it was the number of hours I got to sleep. I had the hardest time keeping these freaky nightmares from my mind, I mean who wants to see their teammates be torn apart piece by piece, listening to ever sick plop of flesh and blood (every decent nightmare has sound effects) and the be forced to lick the blood from Sabertooth's sharp claws? 

This was not a normal teenage dream. They were only getting worse. I guess since my greatest fear had come to life (me dying, duh) it was time for all my _other_ fears to rear their head. 

I, very gingerly, turned over on my back and stared up at the ceiling. My back felt strange still. Dr. Hank said that there were one or two bone fragments they were going to have to remove, but with Daisy's help, it would be healed with little scarring. Little scarring, what a joke. They already said I'd have close to eight to a foot long scar, about an inch wide at the most narrow part, about two inches at the widest part scar on both shoulder blades. Oh yeah, I was going to be so looking forward to swimsuit season _this_ year! 

Do I even own a swimsuit? 

Closing my heavy eyelids over my burning eyes, I sighed happily as I felt sleep ready to pounce on me any second. But when I felt the weight of four heavy paws on my gut instead, I knew that sleep hadn't been the one to pounce on me but Lucy. 

The cat hated me. 

I cracked open one eye, peaked at the hell-spawn of fur and promptly started to shriek and scramble off the bed. With my quick and jerky motions, I sent Lucy gracelessly to the ground. 

"SOMEONE!" The big, long cockroach shifted its little antennas at me and started to scutter across the floor. Towards freedom? Ha! If only. It was headed directly towards me. I never crawled so fast in my life. I moved like my behind was on fire, I crawled up onto my computer chair and eyes the floor, looking for my new roommate. 

Oh great, it wasn't any where to be seen. 

I started to freak out. So what if I was ten million times bigger than it? It was GROSS it was DISGUSTING….and from the pinpricks of my hairs…it was also on my back. I completely lost it then, jumping around in a rolly chair is a really stupid thing, very Kerry though, and I did something that I thought I could never get out of my system. 

During my chair-dance-get-this-bug-off-of-me maneuver, I lost my balance and feel backwards. 

With a sickening crunch and the sensation of warm good on my back, I started to flap my hands and go 'eewwww' so loud that finally SOMEONE came. 

"What is wit all de commotion?" Mr. Remy said, stepping into the room. I had found enough sense to get back to me knees and try desperately to wipe off the roach guts from my back. But the thing was still moving! I fell on it and it was still _moving_! Wasn't it enough that those nasty things were going to out live every race on the planet, did they have to be indestructible to a body falling on them? 

Er, well, half the bug was still moving. Apparently, bleh, I only (gross) popped it's lower end and the front end was finally beating a hasty retreat. 

"Kill it! Kill it!" I point frantically. 

Mr. Remy found what I was motioning to and tipped his head to the side, picked up his big metal boot and 'pop' dead roach. In two parts of my room. Three if you count my back! Which, by the way, sent me crawling across the hall at lightening speed to scrub the roach intestines off my innocent back. 

Ick. Thank you Lucifer for your _wonderful_ birthday gift, but next time, just get me a freaking card like a normal cheap skate!

* * *

Mr. Kurt 'bamfed' into my room about an hour later, and he was laughing privately to himself about my whole recent bug problem. 

"Seems like this will be birthday to remember." 

Yeah, nothing can beat waking up to Scott, who knew, and a cockroach that was in attack mode? 

We, naturally, went to the gym with that dumb bar. Mr. Warren seemed deathly silent for some reason. He just stood off in the corner , with his arms crossed and this grim reaper impression on his face. It wasn't until Mr. Kurt, very pleased with my progress, went off to find some sort of reward (with my threat if the 'reward' was made of Tofu or soy, we were going to have serious problems). 

"Nice day, eh, Mr. Warren?" He made this noise that only an upset father is suppose to be able to make. Something that cat's also make before the hock up a hair ball. Yes, Lucifer taught me this much. In the middle of the night. When he left a trail of slimy balls o' fur all over my floor! 

"A bit too _cold_ for me." 

As if _that_ wasn't a hint. I gave me best innocent little girl look but he smothered that with a 'not buying it' stance. 

"Did you know that Scott, Drake, and a few others and myself are going to have a short little training time tonight?" He gave this smirk that would have made Emma proud. "Just thought you'd like to know about it." 

In other words: We are going to kill Drake, get something black for the funeral. 

And here I was getting off, literally, "scott"-free. 

So why was I sweating so much about it?

* * *

"You and Mr. _Drake_?" Alexis screamed as soon as I picked up the phone. After the ringing left my ear for a moment (and I was smart enough to hold the phone about a foot away from my poor ear) I asked her where she came up with such a rumor. What's the point of confessing when you can confuse? 

"Well, what I heard is that you and Mr. Drake where shacked up in a hotel room, you know the real sleezy type? But what can you expect from him on a teacher's pay? Anyway, you two were--er, 'studying' when your Daddy breaks the door down, beats the crap of Drake, slings you over his shoulder and marches out of the room. I even hear that Mr. Drake is going to get fired from teaching!" 

I blinked. Then I pinched myself for good measure. This was the most stuttering, messed up thing I had ever heard of in a long time. "Is there anything else?" 

"Yeah," Alexis paused. When she does take a breath for longer than a nano second, she's stalling. Thankfully there is always something to make her start up again, like the need to talk. "They say you're pregnant." 

"WHAT?!" 

"Is it true?" 

"ALEX-HIISS!" I screamed, I would be up and pacing but I was kind of still using the crutches and using the crutches and trying to walk around on the phone didn't work too well. I wish I had my wings all the time, but now more than ever so I could fly over to Alexis' house and STRANGLE her! 

"What?" I rolled my eyes. She sounded just so innocent. 

"How'd you hear something like that?" 

"Oh! Well, from what I understood Chris Bradley told Adrian Corbo, you know him? The one that everyone thought you were going out with? Adrian told Daisy, Daisy told Nikki-Jo, Nikki-Jo told K'yo, K'yo told Carroll Markeret, she told like the entire cheerleading squad and of course you know I know that girl, uhm, Sarah right? Well she told me who told this guy Jonathan who told his brother David who told the principal because you know that's there dad and all. It is like, madness!" 

My head hurt. She went through the entire high school list of people it seemed. I felt sick and vengeful but mostly sick. 

"D-Did they say anything to Ja---er, Mr. Drake?" 

"Rumor is his butt is going to get canned. Possibly arrested for dating a minor." I'm going to puke. Did Bobby know all this? Not but three seconds later I heard a knock on my door before the man in question came in and collapsed. I covered up the speaker of the phone before I asked him what he thought he was doing. 

"Dying a slow and painful death thanks to your dad and his posse." When I raised my eyebrow and blocked Alexis out as she went on and on about what Adam had gotten her for Christmas, he sighed. "They ganged up on me in the Danger Room and made me the prime target. Cyclops, Angel, Beast, Rogue, and about everyone else who thinks I'm robbing some cradle." 

My other eyebrow went upstairs to meet its twin. "Aren't you?" 

"Don't worry. Wolverine practically carved a warning into my back side." He chuckled, weak and sad sound that it was. "And even Scott said that if I made Jean a Grandmother," There goes my blush. "That she'd neuter me with nothing but her nails." 

"But we haven't--!" 

"I know that! _They_ know that after I choked it out when Scott caught me." Bobby looked up at me, smirked and found a new strength as he sat up, took and hung up the phone on Alexis and leaned into my personal space. My face was only a few inches (that's probably exaggerating a LOT) from his as he whispered. "But you're eighteen today, so all that can change." 

Excuse me for borrowing this line Julie, but not bloody likely! 


	99. Hide and No Peek!

Lucky MeChapter 99

* * *

Author's Note: Blah. Sadly, this is something every teen has to face. I did when I was younger. Grrr, thankfully I stuck to my guns and that loser didn't come around again after he figured out I wasn't playing hard to get. I was being impossible, ain't no way to get. Thankfully, I had nice, caring, and carrying mallets friends to beat some sense into me before I screwed up royally. Heh, but I am happy now! No pressures at all! ;)

Disclaimer: Live by these words, "Rui is flat broke, jobless and in need of a life. Since she has no money and no life she is just writing this story because she is in desperate need of entertainment. Ye shall not sue the poor college student." Thanks ;)

* * *

If I thought I had perfected the art of avoiding Scott after I made a fool of myself in front of D-M's parents, this was ten times worse. I lived on the same HALL as the guy I was trying to avoid. After his little stunt in my room a week ago, I was able to crawl, cruch (not a verb but what are you going to do?), and weave my way around the mansion. 

I just wanted to avoid Bobby because I didn't know how to tell him that I wasn't ready for---er, anything of that caliber. And, yeah, there would be huge amounts of trouble if any one should ever find out and just, ew! I mean I'm _only_ 18, and yes that is an excuse. I don't care about the statistics of the age when girls go 'all the way', I want to be different I want to stay nice and warm at my big flashing 'stop' sign. 

Speaking of the teacher thing, before they could ask, 'Mr. Drake' quit. With only Adrian and Julie there, the Professor thought it would be okay to let the 'kids' handle whatever they came up against by themselves. I think it is because the Professor caught a word or two about the situation (like by Alexis screaming on my answering machine for me to pick up and tell her about the 'Mr. Drake' thing) and didn't want to have Bobby investigated/arrested/publicly hung by Jean. 

Back to the present. I was avoiding my 'boyfriend' again by hiding in the gym with Mr. Kurt who was currently doing back flips over a high bar. That Kitty girl was on the ground messing around on a lap top, and Miss Rogue was lifting about three tons in the corner on a machine that was just weird and _heavy_. 

I had that accursed bar in my hands, slowly making my way from wall to wall. Occasionally I was able to do it one handed and even without any hands on the bar. Usually I would over compensate for my wings, and forget I didn't have them anymore, and end up almost falling backwards. 

That's when I heard his voice. He was coming down the hall with a somewhat cold sounding Mr. Warren. I panicked. Looking for my escape, I spotted one of the musty old closets that they kept some spare equipment in. But it was all the way across the room. 

I had about a moment. 

"Who lit the fire under you, sugah?" Miss Rogue asked as I fumbled my way down the longest side of the wall, and turned to start the shortest wall. The door was opening by now and my heart was officially going into cardiac arrest. I let go of that bar when I saw a familiar brunette head come in and I never remembered falling so fast, moving forward in my life. 

I didn't fall on my face. I actually made it to the closet door (I hit the door with the side of my face and one of my hands) opened the door, fell in and shut it quietly. 

"Hey!" Bobby greeted the group. There was complete silence. "What's wrong with all of you?" 

There was still silence until Kitty spoke up. "Nothing here." I guess it was a bit odd to see someone come into this disgustingly smelly closet of their own free will. Not only come in, but run to get in. Might be odd, but it made perfect sense to me. 

I don't know how long I stayed in there and I thought I was going to pass out because of the smell but finally I heard Bobby leave. With a sigh, I reached up and twisted the door knob…which then snapped off in my hand. 

Staring at it blankly for the first few seconds, I rolled my eyes and sighed. 

Seemed like I was in time out for being a chicken. 

Dandy.

* * *

Two hours, fifty five songs later, I was rescued. 

Julie, of all people it had to be her, opened up the equipment closet door and when I tumbled out with the rest of the rackets, gloves and miscellaneous items she only raised an eyebrow. She had this half smile, mostly frown on as I struggled to my feet. 

"I don't want to know, do I?" 

Grabbing a hold of the bar, my legs screamed in pain because they were so stiff. "No you don't." 

"Wot kind of idiot gets herself locked up in closet?" Julie might have been my rescuer, but that didn't give her the right to be snotty to me. I smirked as this absolutely delicious idea came to my wicked little mind. Without warning or even a second to spare, I looked behind me to see my soon to be victim throwing things back into the closet. She had her rear up in the air and because I needed to be malicious, I kicked her. 

Oh it wasn't hard, just enough to get her off balance and stumbling into the closet with the other junk. Before she could get her baring straight, I fell forward, shut the door and smirked myself as she began to bang on the door. 

"Let me out of here!" She also said some other stuff, but I stopped listening. Well, I would have listened, most likely, but I left with my crutches under my arms and my laughter filling the air. 

Never let it be said I didn't have a nasty streak. It even had me feeling light headed.

* * *

Another week, a new year and I finally found someone to sort of talk to about the Bobby thing. Yes, I've been avoiding him still but I don't think it's going to help us out in the long run. He probably thinks I hate him since I keep avoiding him so easily. 

And yes, they found Julie and let her out on the same day. 

She was so grumpy and tired, they didn't let her near me. More like, I just laughed at her when she tried to intimidate me in my own room. Chris had to pretend to fry her to get her out of the hall because she came stomping (as much as that stick creature can) down the hall, banging on my door and demanding to know why I was such a brat. She didn't say brat though, the word she did use I figured probably translated into brat. 

I was finally walking all by my little lonesome self. No more crutches and though I did walk with this sort of 'glide' effect to me, I was able to do it! Finally! Sometimes I still stumble (like on the steps behind a half dead Mr. Remy with a hot cup of coffee which ended up all down his shirt and he ended up yelling in French. Of course, I was about to apologize but then he stripped his shirt off to get the liquid away from his body and then I was just dumbstruck by beauty). 

Oh, right, about the talking with/about Bobby thing. My first options were women in the house, but then I scratched that idea remembering that they would probably pull the protective sibling act and not hear me out but beat the idea out of _his_ head instead. Then I thought about Arty, then I rethought that. Were the X women would be on one extreme (in my mind at least) I think Arty would be on the other. She would probably send me candy underwear or something like that. 

Alexis was _so_ out of the question. She was still having problems believing it was true, the relationship thing, so I had no idea what this would do with her. So that left only one other female who was unattached to the X, Diana St. Loy. 

I prowled out her number that she'd given me and I dialed it up. After about thirty minutes of casual chit-chat, it took another fifteen minutes to tell her the story. She didn't say anything at first but then she took a long breath and started talking. 

"Do you want to?" 

"No." Automatic reply. "Not really, I just had my life turned upside down and flipped inside out and I don't think I'd be able to handle a new pressure." 

"Then, duh, don't do it. How'd you get out of it last time he had you, as you say, trapped?" 

I felt my blush tickle my cheeks remembering just _how_ I did manage to get myself out of that one. There had been several very nice options going through my mind but I went with the most female one possible. "I told him I was on my period." 

It took her three minutes to stop laughing long enough to make sense again. "That's pretty good. Just like when you _really_ don't want to kiss a guy, say you have a canker sore and suddenly they are as noble as a priest on Sunday." 

"Yeah, but that'll only work once a month." 

Diana sighed, "Listen, do you think you should be deathly thin?" 

Didn't see the point of this but okay. "No." I've seen Julie, who is that 'deathly thin' because she rarely eats anything. "It's ---unnatural." 

"Right, but pop culture would have you believe it's _just_ what has to be." Diana was getting on a roll I just knew it. I rolled my eyes and laid down on my bed, might as well get comfortable. "There was this model a few years back, Tirips something, anyway, she was some hot stuff for about half a year until they found out she was whacky. The girl had been driving nails into her hands to prevent her from eating." 

I cringed. That just _sounded_ painful. Of course for me to lose weight, I had my wings butchered off, lost almost all my blood and then was in a coma for a while. But I'm not bitter. I just want to punch a hole in something. 

"What's that got to do with anything?" I asked, finally. 

"It's got to do with you can't let others influence you. Be your own person and all that other pep talk stuff guidance counselors are always pushing on kids." Diana made it sound so final. "Because if you do anything you regret, it'll be only you to blame." 

"Thank you Miss Budda.." I muttered in a reply. So basically she was no help, just made it very evident that everything was up to me. 

Again, dandy.

* * *

It had finally come to this. 

I stood in front of Bobby's door, biting my lip so much I thought it was going to end up being my lunch. For some reason I figured going to him in the brightest hour of the day would make it easier and give him less of an imagination as to why I was here. 

Also to protect my behind, I made sure Jean was a million miles away (okay so the super market isn't a million miles away, but at least she's not right out side the door) and that Dad was wrapped up training with Wolverine and Emma. Ick on Emma. 

Finally, after ten minutes of trying to decide what to do, I raised my hand to knock and before my knuckles reached the door, the door swung open. Bobby stood there, staring at me like a confused deer in headlights and I was looking like myself, lost and caught. 

"Hey." Oh that's so smooth, Drake. He backed away from the door and waved a hand in. "Come on in." 

I smiled nervously and stepped in far enough where he could shut the door. 

"To what do I owe the honor of having the phantom mutant appear before me instead of jumping in closets and running down the opposite end of the hall?" 

"Oh," So I wasn't as invisible as I had originally hoped. "You noticed." 

"Yeah, I noticed. I had my doubts at first but after the second week, I got a pretty good hint." He sat down on his bed and I tensed . "So did you come to explain?" 

"You're a sharp one," I laughed nervously. Oh goody, don't tell me lame jokes are now a nervous habit. "Uhm, but I guess I kinda need to explain why. Maybe?" 

"Maybe. Might be a good idea before I start to think that you just liked the mystery of our relationship instead of me." He gave me this flat look. It's really hard for me to focus on my topic at hand when I just look at him. What was I going to say--? Something…oh! Right, now I remember. 

"Uh, it's just that you seem very eager to---and I don't want to---not because I _don't_ want to just because I don't think I want to because I don't think I'm ready for that type of er, attention and uh." Well, I went on like that for about five minutes, my face was beat red by the time he started to laugh at me. 

Now, when one is trying to be grown-up and serious, one does _not_ want to get laughed at! 

Then the fear slammed into me, maybe I'm talking about something he wasn't talking about! What if I had misinterpreted it? Oh man, I would be so embarrassed! 

"Is that all?" Bobby laughed out. "You've been playing secret agent girl because of _that_?" 

"Uh, yeah." I was confused, embarrassed and lost. "Why are you laughing?" 

"Because all you had to tell me was 'no'." I stared at him with a 'yeah-right-that-would-have-worked' look on my face. "I wouldn't have liked the answer but I'm not about to make you do something you don't want to." 

"Not to mention I'm ten times stronger than you and you can't make me do anything against my will period." 

"And your parents and devoted 'friends' around here would have seen me in pain." I felt a huge weight shift off of me and out the door. "Now, I'm not going to lie about _wanting_ to…" 

Okay, so the weight didn't go out the door, but it was off my shoulders and whistling innocently beside me now. 

Great.

* * *

I never known Chris to be straight foreword, he's always enjoyed skirting around issues and life in general. With me, though, it was harder for him. He always held back, even in the beginning, even before Bobby. Some parts of me wanders what would have happened if he did make his interest known. Like now. 

There was something I was going to ask him, I was going to thank him too for taking care of Darcy while I was…out. I knocked, walked into his room after he said it was okay, I never expected him to ask me to shut the door. I was compliant and did as he asked. His room was dark, except for the moonlight coming from the naked windows. 

"I just wanted to--" And then he was there. From the shadows formed this boy who, in the same breath, had me pressed tightly against him in an unbreakable embrace. My mind, quite literally, shut down. I had my arms laying by my sides dead as they could be. 

Chris…Chris was hugging me. Chris was trying to make me a part of him since he was hugging me so tightly. I heard a thousand girls swoon at romantic novels when the described a moment like this as the man was holding on to the female like a piece of wood to a drowning man. This time I knew what they meant. Only one other time have I felt this…wanted and needed. That was when Bobby had run to me and taken me into his arms in my room without any real reason he felt like explaining. 

"I was so scared." He whispered into my ear. His voice was just as different as his actions, instead of annoyed and sarcastic, it was deep and ---hurt? I felt relief seep through me though, he was just doing this as a friend. "I went to see you every night----" His arms tightened. 

My eyes, if they weren't threaten to pop out by now, certainly tried to when I felt something warm and wet hit my shoulder. Oh my----he was crying. My breath abandoned me when I realized this. Chris really did care for me, this was more shocking to me than anything. He was crying, confessing and holding me and all because he cared for me. I never thought I'd see his iron, mulish attitude crumble so much, so quickly. 

"I wanted to be the one who sat with you all night." Chris buried his face further in my neck. "I wanted to be the one to hold your hand. I wanted to be---" His voice hitched and my heart started to chip away. "But it was him," Chris' voice dropped lower, harsher. "_He_ was always there. A-and now _he_ gets to be the one to---hold you. " 

I didn't know what to say. I had a million things spinning through my mind and still it was blank with shock and sympathy. My own eyes were tearing up, as much as I would love to, I couldn't brush him off and make him laugh at himself. What was I suppose to do? He was leaving himself so vulnerable at this moment, baring his heart to me as he held me in this dark room. 

"I don't know what else to do for you, Kerry." One of his hands left the middle of my back to the top of my shoulder. "Please, Kerry. Please." The last word was between a barely restrained crying shudder and a whisper. 

My eyes closed for the briefest of moments, my skin tingled where his tears landed. Why now, Chris? Why did you have to add to the confusion of my life? Haven't I gone through enough? I don't want to hurt anyone anymore or have anyone else hurt me. 

"C-Chris…" 

"Tell me." He cut me off before I could finish my statement. I bit my lip, trying to keep my words and tears inside until he finished. My heart was completely wounded by this, and even more so when he tightened his already painful embrace. "Tell me you love him." He raised his head to where his lips were just by my ear, which was probably a good thing since he was barely audible as it was. 

He removed his other hand from my back and let it slide between us, to cup the side of my face as if I was going to turn suddenly and break his nose. 

"Just tell me the truth." More tears, from both of us. I could keep the words in but not the tears, not any longer. "Just tell me if you love him." Both hands were around me again, was this his awkward form of fidgeting or something? 

I finally found that I _did_ have strength in my arms as I raised them up. He allowed them to come between us, and I---pushed him away gently. His blue eyes seemed to be their own living and breathing beings. I never knew his eyes to be that dark blue. They were different from Bobby's blue eyes. He was different from Bobby period. 

"I--can't tell you something I---don't know." I was going to say 'unsure about' and maybe I should have since I saw his eyes lift a single veil of melancholy for an instant. "But I don't love you. Not in that way." 

The way his heart shattered in his eyes was more than any normal person to take. His hands had moved to the top of my arms, and with my last statement they tightened, not painfully but noticeably. Chris' breath sounded as if it hitched in his throat and in the same instant he let his arms drop as he turned his back to me. 

"Chris, I--" I let the tears roll down my face plainly. After going through what I did, what was the point of hiding things anymore? What was the point of caring for people if they never knew? "I do _love_ you but not in the way you---want me to. I love you all." I added this pathetic explanation in a gentle whisper. His shoulders squared and I heard a cross between a cry and angered noise escape his throat. 

Reaching out, I gingerly touched his shoulder, which he jerked it out of my grasp. "Get out, Kookie." 

I shook my head, why did you make me do this to you Chris? I didn't ever want to hurt you. "Chris.." 

"Get. Out." He snapped, his old angry self coming back into play. I just shot his heart into the next realm, why wouldn't he be snappy? "Go to him." Chris voice was a harsh whisper once more. 

I left his room just as quickly as I had come in but instead of searching out Bobby, I leaned on Chris' door for a moment. Wiping the tears away from my eyes and cheeks I could only think and say one thing over and over. "I'm sorry, Chris." 


	100. Star Jammin'

Lucky MeChapter 100:

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about the insane delay but had felt like I lost my spark. Have been recently reunited and am now happy girl . Hope you enjoy! 

Comment to reviewer known as "dan": Your review is less than flattering and more than a little incorrect. Jack is Bobby and can only _be_ Bobby. If you dared to read through the story again you would see that Adrian can _not_ be Jack because Adrian never liked Kerry in _that_ way. If there is any such cooking scene with that mistake, it was just that, a mistake. A typo. Bobby is Jack. If you don't like it then by all means stop reading and or be a bit more tactful in your reviews because it is _my_ story so I know precisely what I am talking about. I'm sure there is a wealth of reviewers/readers who can cheerfully point out all your faults in your poorly assembled logic. Thanks for the review. g

* * *

I am a dork. I am an unwanted, vile, hateful dweeb that has the nerve to breathe. 

Okay, not really. I mean, I do my part and but recycled paper and therefore get the right to breathe at least from saving one tree or something. But I am currently feeling like a neglected fair won pet floating belly up in a moldy, algae covered fish tank. 

It turns out that Julie, the Freak from Across the Ocean, is even more of a 'character' than I originally thought. 

The first week in February was going splendid. I had gotten a hold of (aka pushed down and to the back of my brain I'm affectionately now referring to as the 'black pit o' doom' ---use to be my name for Emma's bra but decided that was WAY to subtle and nice for a tramp that makes prostitutes look moral) my nasty little self-depreciating thoughts. I was proud of myself for being able to 'mask' myself once again. 

Was doing very well until Sparky decided to short circuit the entire 'seen' floors of the mansion thus throwing everyone into utter chaos. I swear that you wouldn't expect people who fight sentinels, bad mutants and, I dunno, the wrongs of the modern world to get all weird and whiney about a black out but they did. Dr. Hank had quickly escaped down to his lab after tripping over Paige on the steps who was waiting for Mr. Warren who was cussing a (no pun intended) blue streak in the bathroom because he had been shaving when the lights went out and apparently nearly slit his own throat. 

Gambit, apparently, had been about to win it big on some online gambling site when his computer screen blinked out and he ended up spiting his double latte all over the screen. Not only did he get his monitor covered in sticky caffeine but in his frantic panic, he spilt the rest of the tall drink all over his keyboard and consequently in the crotch of his pants which started a whole new round of foreign foul mouthing. 

From the shrieks of pain and surprise coming from the OTHER wing, I didn't even want to think about what had happened. Probably something like curling irons burning sensitive skin. Mascara appliers poking out one or both eyes and their will be desperate need to carpool half the female residents to local hospital for eye implants or something. And the tumbling down of bodies trying to get into their second-skin type jeans by wiggling, standing on one foot and sucking all their organs into their throat which lead to them falling over in a disgraceful, half dressed lump of upset creature. 

Me? I wasn't doing anything that involved lights or electricity. Though I did swipe an electric razor from the bathroom closet. Why, you ask? Because Lucifer, the hell cat, was having problems digesting his fur and he got into the habit of puking it up on either a) Stitch b) me or c) my bed and I had every intention of shaving him bald as a favor. In revenge I was going to cover him in shaving cologne and then laugh like a psychopath (which I think I technically would be considered had I been given chance to do this). 

I think that evil cat called upon his minions to cut the electricity because I just knew Chris wouldn't be that dumb again. Remember the last time he made the power go out? Sabertooth got loose and we ended up fighting for our very lives. SO I just KNEW Chris would not be that dumb. 

Wrong. 

The phone rang while a cussing Cajun (all in French or some other normally pretty language when not spoken in enraged shouts of pain) passed my door and a 'thunk-thunk' noise was heard a few seconds later (don't want to know, happy being dumb). Picking up I gave a rather lazy, "Hello?" 

"What's going on up there?" It was Scott. Sheesh, why didn't he call someone more reliable. Then I remembered, oh yeah, the reliable ones were (according to the noise) mending their self inflicted battle scars. 

"Mass male destruction and female furies on a rampage." There was a pause. 

"Kerry." 

"Chris killed the lights again." Scott sighed, before saying he'd be right there. What was he going to be able to do? Pass out rations and candles? I wouldn't trust half these people with a flame (myself included because I think everyone would be very appreciative of having living torch running through the halls---Lucy). 

I hung up the phone and decided to have fun with the mass chaos. Went into darkness of the hallway and dumb cat shot out between my legs, causing me to trip and smack into someone (or something) that was sopping wet. Both caught by surprise, we ended up going down together. When I felt a towel, I knew I was in trouble. 

When weak excuse for a flashlight light was blinding me in the eye, my face went bright red. Bright enough it should have lit up the entire corridor. I was in a tangled heap with stricken looking Sam hovering above me. 

"Something _else_ I should know about, Kookie?" Scott remarked with a slight smile on his lips. I blustered and Sam and I tried to quickly escape each other. Some where in the scuffle, he lost his towel and I went blind. Ack, why must I be forced to live on the men's wing with the possibility of naked men running around? I just wanted to crawl back into my room and die. 

"Where is everyone else?" 

"Follow the shoutin', Summers." The ever wise Mr. Logan said, puffing up a cigar. Before Dad could say anything about no smoking in the mansion Mr. Logan shrugged and said it worked as a mini-torch. Dad must not have been in the mood to fight with him because he just turned around and made his way to the female wing. 

After Sam was swallowed up by the darkness, I ran for it as well. Note to self, when mansion, for childish reason, goes into massive panic mode: Stay in room. 

When genius here went into the fray, she got her behind scuffed up pretty badly. I found out that the main part of the mansion goes pitch black and despite Scott's wimpy excuse for a dying flashlight, you don't have a clue where you are going. I ended up tripping down the steps, finding a moaning in pain Paige and a completely frustrated Miss Rogue who was trying to find way back to upper floors without flying or killing anything (on purpose or otherwise). 

Bobby was fussing about having been on the last level of a video game he'd been playing for about three weeks and was about to win when the lights died. "I'm gonna kill Chris. Seventh level! Gah!" 

"I think the person who gets the most injuries has that pleasure." I muttered as Mr. Bishop (I think) went past me in a huff. Where he was going I am only going to hope the fuse box or something. 

"WHO is going to replace my door!" Someone screamed from up the stairs. Not wanting to know what had happened to said door, I decided to go visit Dr. Hank.

* * *

Since the Professor, though stinking rich to the point of revulsion, is so cheap, he wouldn't call an electrician till the next day. Since Mr. Bishop and Dr. Hank could only get the generators working for the sub-levels of the place, Scott had to finally let us go to the boat house to 'crash' because he had a heater that worked. Not for lack of trying on his part to get us into the danger room. 

When Jean seemed equally as thrilled about the prospect of her house becoming a mutant safe house, Scott politely mentioned that it was either central heat keeping people warm or a whole lot of 'personal' time occurring. You know, he sorta said, like cuddling in the dark. In a bed. Alone. 

Jean was more than willing to pick us up at that point. 

Gambit, as always, whipped out a pack of cards and suggested poker. Us broke, cheap or poker-challenged people drifted to the kitchen for Uno instead. All you can lose at with Uno is your self respect and your temper and badly damage a few friendships when you keep slamming down 'Draw Two' and 'Skip'. Grrr. 

"That's cheatin'!" Miss Rogue claimed as Storm put another 'Reverse' on the play. With a growl, Miss Rogue glared off into a corner. 

Jean smiled, "It's only a game, Rogue." 

"One that I'm losin'!" 

"Someone has to." Julie said, rearranging her cards. Everyone was a little taken back by her lack of 'I-need-thy-blood-to-live' attitude since the lights went out. Miss Rogue grumbled something about having so many cards and I just sighed. At least hers wasn't an inch thick and growing. 

Around the table was Jean, Miss Rogue, Sam (who was kicked out of poker after winning seven times in a row), Julie, Miss Ororo, Paige, and most everyone else who was poor or too lucky to play. They had the radio on and the second shock of the night occurred. 

Just when they were about to play the next song after going on and on (talking) about how they played more music and less talking (not proved by the past 14 minutes of commercials), the DJ actually said something that had me gaping at the radio and not carrying that Chris had just 'slammed' me with a Draw Four. 

"…that's right, she disappears for half a year only to come back out with a new hit song, 'Shade'. Her manager has said nothing about what had happened to the performer but you know, there are rumors. At any rate, here is the ever elusive DAS with 'Shade…" 

DAS? One of my, if not THE, favorite singer is back? What the heck! Where have I been! How didn't I know. Then Gambit came in talking about something stupid (because he was making it hard to hear the song!) and I shushed him and turned up the radio. 

I couldn't believe it! DAS was back! I wonder if she had a new CD out yet? 

"KERRY!" I nearly jumped out of my seat when Chris screamed at me because I had yet to pick up the four cards. 

I was riding on cloud 9. Chris rolled his eyes as I put down a 'Reverse' then three 'Draw Twos' in a row. The rest of the game had me in this happy-happy state. Though I wasn't so out of it not to find it curious how badly Julie's hands were shaking. Was she scared or something? 

After the second game of cards, we decided to take a break. Begrudgingly Scott and Jean had to admit that the crew would have to spend the night and it was Bobby (Mr. I'm-Not-Effected-Much-By-the-Cold) who volunteered to take the four wheel drive to the mansion to pick up extra blankets, toothbrushes and such. When Jean and Scott went upstairs to check the toothpaste situation (whether we had enough or not) I quickly (and silently) volunteered to go with Bobby by slipping out the front door (slipping back in a second later after realizing I had forgotten my shoes) and getting into the Onvoy (the big car/truck/SUV thingie). 

He was about to get in when he noticed me and blinked, smiled and got in the car with this 'smooth look' smile on his lips. Julie, unfortunately, decided to tag on as well. Claiming that she needed to speak to Dr. Hank. Hmph, like I believe that. She'll just take any chance she can to make me miserable. 

As if we had the same idea in mind, we waited for Julie to get out of the car so we could have some 'us' time. The only thing that went wrong was that Julie didn't budge. She was the last to get out and Bobby and I weren't looking like the most approachable people at that moment. 

Using our flashlights, we were able to round up everyone's toothbrushes and enough pillows and sleeping stuff to keep most everyone nice and warm. Julie, naturally, coped out and headed straight for Dr. Hank. She could have helped us a _little_ ya know. 

Once the massive load was shoved into the back of the vehicle, Bobby said he was going to start the motor and I could go and fetch Julie. When I got to Dr. Hank's, he wasn't there. Julie had her back to me and with all the shock in the world, her gloves were on the bed beside her. 

I didn't get the nickname 'kitten' by chasing mice, it was because I'm too dang curious. I tip toed into the lab, apparently not quietly enough because Julie turned around to see me and her eyes went round in surprise. 

"Wot the bloody hell are you doin' in here?!" 

"Uh---" Her hands, now closely cradled to her chest, where astonishingly grotesque. "I--I was just coming to…" 

"Miss Summers, if you don't mind…" Dr. Hank said from behind me. I jumped to the side and watched in astonishment as he went to Julie and started to stick a few needles into the backs of her hands. 

When Dr. Hank was finished with her, Julie pulled her gloves on and stormed past me in a rage. I followed her blindly down the hall. 

It didn't take her long to explode on me in a verbal spew of thickly accented words. She was ranting at me to the point where she was _crying_. At the end of the rather lengthy frustrated one side shout fest, she summed it up. "Why the bloody hell did you 'ave to see?" 

I blinked at her in my own naturally stupid way. "It was an accident." 

"But why'd you'd have to _look_?" 

"Uh," Because I have eyes? I walked past her. There was one way to make her shut up, so I shrugged off the jean jacket I was wearing and pushed my hair over my shoulder so my back was on display. The strangled noise she made let me know she was looking at my horribly scarred back. "There, happy? Now we both have scars." My back was ugly in my eyes, scars of my lack of flying. I was forever grounded. Denied the sky for life. It sucked. Once you've grown use to something it's a real punch in the gut to be told you can't have it anymore. 

I put my jacket back on and looked her in the sunglasses. Her mouth was still opened a bit but it was quickly snapped shut as she brushed by me. "That's wot you get for being stupid." 

I smirked. 

When we walked out, Bobby was out of the car and talking to some guy with a ponytail and beard. 

This wasn't the weird part. 

The really weird, kinda almost fainting part was that there was a _spaceship_ on the front lawn. 

"Kookie!" Bobby screamed, waving over at me as I continued (along with Julie) to stare dumbly at this--this _spaceship_! "Come on! Don't you want to meet your new Grand-dad?" 

I think that's when I grabbed on to the front door knob and walked back into the house. 

I walked out again and there was still this pony tailed old guy and a spaceship. 

Huh, okay…can't wait to hear this explanation…. 


	101. This Stinks!

Lucky Me

  
Chapter 101

* * *

Author's Note: WOW. One hundred and ONE! Yippee!! Again, I apologize for the lengthy delay between updates but I was really busy with summer courses. Grammar kicked my tail but I passed! And before anyone asks where on EARTH I came up with the idea of Cossair popping up…it's because I was going through my old comic books this weekend when I stumbled upon one of the issues that had 'bonding time' between Scott and Christopher (Cossair's er, earth name). So, I know he can 'pop by' when he feels like it and such. Okay . Well, that's about it on my part, time for Kerry to take it away!

* * *

The explanation took longer than I thought. Dad (who was called the instant the spaceship landed) was somewhat happy to see his Dad (which is just weird, I mean who really wants to see a sixty something year old strutting around in tights? ---this excludes Wolverine for obvious reasons). So we all trooped back to the boathouse (after the spaceship had taken off) and there was a round of 'his' and 'how are yous'. Jean saw my blank expression and promised to explain everything in the morning.  
  
So, after Professor Cheapo paid for the electrician and Chris got about ten years hard time scrubbing the Locker Room floors (both male and female), Jean (Mom) sat me down and tried to explain the somewhat chaotic family tree.  
  
Two hours later I was beginning to get a grasp on it yet again.  
  
"So this, er, space guy is Scott and this guy named Alex's real father." Mom nodded slowly. "And when they were young, the plane was going down and both were pushed from the plane and at that moment the parents, er, Christopher and Katherine were sucked up into an Ialien/I spaceship." Tell me if this isn't something snapped out of a sci-fi script.  
  
"Yes. Scott and Alex thought that both their parents died in the crash…" This is when I had a monster of a headache. She went into Cable and his clone, and then this woman named Madelyn and how it was Jean's clone and oh brother (which they're might be a third Summers brother, but they're not sure). Oh! And just to throw in some fresh blood, there is also a Rachel and a Nate Grey.  
  
"Okay, just so I have this straight." I cleared my throat, "this old guy, no offense, instead of being like most retired, over the hill or whatever type grandfather figure and buying an RV and puttering from cost to cost or even getting a backpack and trekking all over Europe owns his own spaceship, complete with crew, and is a pirate to the Shiatsu?"  
  
She chewed it over in her mind and slowly began to nod. "Yes, that is about right. Except it's the Shi'ar." Mom gave an encouraging smile. "Any more questions?"  
  
"No, no. I think that covers it." Okay, I can never again make fun of rednecks or Southerners because of their 'inbreeding'. My new 'family' steals all the genetics and moral writings from the way it should be and rips them to shreds.  
  
I gave her a blank stare and felt like crying. I joined a freaking soap opera!  
  
No wait, this family doesn't have anything close to the melodrama of a soap.  
  
"Wait, I do have a question." I paused, looked her dead in the eyes and asked, "Am I now my own aunt?"  
  
Needless to explain, she gave me a withering look. Guess she's touchy about her family unit. And yet, she never did give me an answer. Hmmm…

* * *

"…so then, just when I thought we were going to get our tails fried, BAM! Our guns got a life of their own and started firing at random!" Christopher laughed it up as Dad forced a smile and Jean laughed politely. Apparently he had wanted to stop by for Christmas but some---things had come up and he couldn't make it till now.  
  
This was some type of warped family lunch thing. Jean-Mom wanted me to feel like 'more of the family' I guess since I only have died _once_ I was still a novice to the Summers saga. The man who was talking kept shooting off these 'sectors' and 'gama' names like they were common as grass cities.  
  
I was a good kid and kept my lips busy with the rim of my cup.  
  
As long as I didn't talk I didn't have to exist. I was more of a suggestion of a person at the table than an actual entity. Jean smiled encouragingly at me as she started to clear the table. Scott excused himself to go to the bathroom and then there were two.  
  
My cup had become a part of my mouth because it was NOT going to be moving anytime soon.  
  
"So," He started off, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling limply in my direction. Thankfully he was no longer in the spandex complete with bandana thing but was dressed in Dad's clothes. Talk about a freaky look into the future. "You're now a Summers."  
  
"Heh." Was my reply with cup muffling most of it.  
  
He leaned forward on the table, leaning on his arms now. "Tell me a little bit about yourself. I don't get to see many of my own grandchildren though I've been told I have one or two running around from different dimensions and such." And he said all this with a straight face. Only in the X-Men could one say that they have a time displaced or dimension hopping relative and be taken at face value.  
  
The cup and I had to break up. "I, uh, don't know what you want to know."  
  
He looked thoughtful for a split second. "Anything. I'm not picky."  
  
"Uh, I'm--a girl?" I can't believe I said that like I wasn't sure! The Cossiar-character laughed.  
  
"I hope so because you are too pretty to be a boy."  
  
…  
  
_He_ just complimented me. I sat there with my eyes big and my mouth opened. Then I blushed.  
  
"Tell me something else." Not if you are going to cause me to light up like a rose every time I open my mouth. "What do you think about camping?"  
  
When I'm being hunted by Wolverine and half the senior staff for 'practice'? I hate it. Like being a tourist on a cannibal's island.  
  
"It's okay I guess."  
  
"Good." Christopher got up with a huge smile and shouted to Dad. "Scott! Kookie agrees!"  
  
Huh? Agrees with _what_?  
  
"Agrees with what?" came Dad's voice. Suspiciously enough, it wasn't from the area of the bathroom but the living room.  
  
"She thinks we all need to go camping together!"  
  
What the heck got lost in the translation here?! I was sputtering and about to protest and then he winked at me and I was stuck silent by Jean who waltzed in with a plate full of cookies. Oh sure, let that be a distraction but I can't believe what this old guy just volunteered me for! I don't want to go back out into the woods! Argh!

* * *

"He thinks it'll be great way for all of you to 'bond', Kookie." Mom tried to sooth my frazzled, frayed and fricasseed nerves as she packed some clothes for Scott.  
  
"Get a blowtorch!" I grumbled. "'cause that's the _only_ way I'm going to _bond_ with him."  
  
"Kookie, I know this is sudden but it won't be as bad as your imagining it." Dad tried to calm me down and I tried to set him on fire with my glare.  
  
"Why can't we 'bond' like a normal American family? In front of the television?"  
  
"Why are you being so argumentative about this?" Scott was going into wanna-be Professor mode. "Why not try it before you completely dismiss the idea?"  
  
"Can I apply that same philosophy to sex, drugs and, " rock n' roll usually follows but decided it was too cliché. "Mutant dominancy?"  
  
Mom shot her eyes to Dad who was looking longingly at the window as if he wanted to jump out of it. After a moment, she looked back at me. "No, you may not."  
  
Scott, who looked so much like a federal employee I was slightly freaked, cheerfully tried to convince me with a forced smile. "It's only for a weekend. That's not too much to ask is it?"  
  
"Depends." I snapped, maneuvering myself into the authoritative position that they have been trying to get me into for the past year and more. "What do I get out of it?"  
  
With a sharp sound of the zipper being zipped, Jean whirled around with her red hair and smile. "The feeling of being that much more rooted into the family."  
  
I eyed her suspiciously. "You're not going are you?"  
  
That started Jean and Scott with one of their glaring contests which meant they were fighting it out telepathically. I threw up my hands in disgust and slammed their bedroom door on my way out. There was no use talking to them when they were 'talking' to themselves.

* * *

Like it or not, I got dragged on the camping trip.  
  
And whether they liked it or not I played the 'dumb girl' part to the maximum. Dad was slightly annoyed when I picked up one of the stakes for the tent and asked if it was some kind of tripped out earring. After protesting about hammering the 'earring' into the ground for fear of breaking my 'nails', Scott pointed to Christopher and said 'go'.  
  
The older Summers was busy making the fire.  
  
At least that's what I think he was trying to do. He turned around when I drew close and smiled up at me. "You'd think after last time I would remember to bring a match."  
  
He was using two stones to attempt to get a fire going. I tipped my head and sighed. Grabbing another set of stones, I flexed my muscles trying to build up some of that special mutant adrenaline and then with a swift and powerful scrapping of the stones, the sparks flew.

"Wow." Christopher breathed. "I can't believe I was shown up in strength by such a small girl."  
  
My eye ticked. I know he wasn't meaning to be mean or anything but it wasn't like I was running around in a frilly blue dress with pink ribbons in my hair singing 'the Good Ship Lollipop'. Small girl. Heh. I'm 5'7 thank you! AND I am not 'slim and trim' I'm just what you'd call 'athletic build'. Grrr.  
  
"What about some dinner?"  
  
"Got the number of a pizza place that'll deliver to the middle of nowhere?" I retorted, crossing my arms. Scott came up at this time, fishing poles in hand. Oh you've got to be kidding me. I do not fish. I'm not a nature girl! I use to eat it until I saw "The Little Mermaid" and then cried because I kept envisioning that I was eating Ariel, Flounder, merfolk, etc.  
  
"We live off the land up here." Scott's Dad replied with another crooked smile. "It's called roughing it."  
  
My eyebrow made an arrow as it arched and I looked around at the jeep, the tent, the bug spray, etc. Yeah, _this_ is 'living off the land'. "Uh-huh. And what exactly about this is 'rough'?"  
  
"We never bring toilet paper."

* * *

After the whole fishing epidemic, we ate and then went to our respective sleeping bags. The purpose of the tent was for show I guess because even though it was mid-February, I think Miss Ororo had made it a bit more camper friendly because it was too hot in the tent.  
  
Between the popping of the fire and the Summers' snoring, I some how got to sleep only to be woken up by a feeling of being watched. Under the rules that were beat (literally) into my head, I laid perfectly still. My eyes were still shut and either Dad and Christopher were really talented at pretending to sleep or I was the only one feeling eyes on me.  
  
Of course with my luck it'll be a raccoon or something.  
  
As long as it's not a spider. I would just die if I came face to face with a spider. Ick.  
  
Fear was making my blood pump faster. Who was it? What was it? Maybe Jean decided to join us after all and I'm just fretting over nothing. Something in my brain buzzed with the steadiness of anticipation that made me know that I wasn't alone.  
  
After another ten years of waiting I was ready to break the rules and jump up and scream "come out so we can kick the crap out of each other and get it over with!". Or I might be crazy. I tried to go to sleep but it was as hard to go back to sleep as it was when you've had a really freaky nightmare about a bug being in your sheets.  
  
Even if I was able to keep my body from trembling and my eyes constantly closed, my breathing sped up. There was no way that if the thing watching me was human that they didn't notice. I was so scared without any real reason!  
  
I was an X-person. I shouldn't be afraid!  
  
But I was. I _so_ was.  
  
I was trembling. I was so freaking scarred of probably nothing that I was trembling! Sheesh, I'm a coward. But, on a more positive note, I was a coward with a big mouth. A big mouth and a distinct scream. And when I couldn't take it anymore, I sat up and screamed my little mutant lungs out.  
  
There was pressure on my shoulders and I was shaking harshly. I was screaming my lungs out in hopes that Dad or his Dad would wake up and save me from the invisible stalker. That is, until I heard Scott's voice and my vision cleared (that happens when you open your eyes) and that's when I saw him above me.  
  
"Wh-What's going on?"  
  
"That's what we'd like to know." Scott leaned back on his haunches and ran a hand through his hair as Christopher, who was behind him, had a curious look on his face. "You were screaming."  
  
"I--was asleep?"  
  
"Yes." Scott's Dad replied. "Must have been one heck of a dream!"  
  
"Yeah, but that's okay." I should have shut-up. "But it's a normal thing nowadays."  
  
"So this is natural for you?" I gave in an incredulous look to Christopher.  
  
"It's _normal_, not natural."  
  
He put his hands up in the air and backed off. "Sorry I asked."  
  
"Yeah, me too." It wasn't like I was purposefully being a brat, but my dream was already horrible so I couldn't think of any reason why I should wake up like a little rain of sunshine. Uhm, ray of sunshine not rain. I think that would hurt. Then again, if a rain of sunshine would hurt maybe that is what I am waking up like. "Sorry."  
  
He nodded and turned back to the fire or what was left of it. Scott helped me to my feet and I felt a wave of nauseating spinning hit my vision.  
  
"So, uh, what's for breakfast?" Christopher chirped.

"Fish." Scott answered and then backed up quickly as I turned a lovely shade of green.

* * *

This was turning into a regular day camp.  
  
Out of the blue (actually off of a motorcycle) Cable appeared. He said that Jean had repeatedly suggested that he join the little Summer fest. I had a feeling she just wanted the boathouse all to herself and to sacrifice innocent little me was something she was more than willing to do. I feel so love.  
  
Right now all three true, blue Summers were on a little boat looking like the three stooges, although after the first twenty minutes I quickly became bored with watching them and decided to poke something. The only thing around the campsite that I saw that wouldn't a) eat me, b) maul me, and c) throw me into the lake tied on a rock. This harmless creature happened to be a snake.  
  
Okay, yes, I know that you probably are thinking that this is a really stupid idea, but it was very entertaining. As it would get ticked off, I jumped away from it. It was fun to see it slither away and then hiss at me in its own snake way. I had a theory, not that I wanted to test it out but I had one nevertheless, that my 'black' skin would protect me from it's fang and thus it's (possibly) lethal bite.  
  
Thankfully, I didn't have to see if my theory worked because being the very Kerry type of girl that I am (through and through) I lost my balance (because I have yet to mutate into a monster who has eyes in the back of her head), tripped over a log as the snake slithered away only to come face to face with a peeved off skunk.  
  
I'm sure every single animal died of fright at my screaming.


	102. Only In Dreams

Lucky Me

  
Chapter 102

* * *

Author's note: The best part about this story, to me, is the way the most random of ideas seem to work. .;; Like the whole cookie mess earlier on and the other bits of random happenings. Although I promise that this story will not reach 125. Sad? Only if you like the story ;p

SOOOO sorry about the stupid delay! I promise the next chapter will be out ASAP! I'm also working on a one-shot featuring Julie since a lot of you seem to enjoy her. If you are one of the people who do not like her so much, I still recommend the story when it comes out so you can understand where she is coming from! Thanks! Bless!

* * *

I don't really know what happened, or what went wrong.  
  
Every thing just seem to happen at once. One moment the camping crew and Cossair's people were standing on his ship, using Shi'ar (sounds like a poodle or something) technology to try and get the skunk scent off of me. The next moment something is shaking the ship and alarms are ringing like a code blue in a hospital!  
  
The ship seemed to rumble like there was an earthquake in progress and I seemed to be the only screaming about it. The others weren't screaming but I'm not sure what they were saying either! It was insane, the cat like chick started to shout off what was happening, something about someone triggered the high alert on the bounty or something to that effect.  
  
While the skunk smell was gone now because all this havoc started after it had happened finally, they promptly booted anyone who was decently clothed off the ship and took off.  
  
"What just happened?" Jean asked breathlessly. She said that the creature was a psychic born identity and it was currently making its rounds. It was so powerful that it caused her to go 'Phoenix' or something like that. I was just stunned beyond words as I watched as Christopher's ship became a dot and then nothing in the sky.  
  
"A ship was being attacked or a bounty was located, something big." Dad muttered under his breath. I tilted my head from one parent to the next, considering them both and being completely lost. My head began to throb as Jean's sweat started to pour. Now, I'd love to say it was because I was worried but I think it was because she was whip lashing her powers or something!  
  
"J-Jean…" I muttered out, grabbing the sides of my head, my eyes tearing up.  
  
"JEAN!" And then she passed out in his arms. I was stumbling, but I didn't want to be a problem. So I stumbled away from them, resting on the front steps as Dr. Hank sprinted at the door and to Jean's side. My headache was waning, thankfully.  
  
As they picked her up and gingerly, though hurriedly, moved her inside the house, my eyes landed on a dark spot in the woods.  
  
Where there eyes staring back at me?  
  
White, glowing eyes?

* * *

Three days later and Jean reassurance that it was fatigue and the sudden weirdness of the life in general that had gotten her and I was asleep. I was down at the boathouse because Chris, for some dumb reason, kept frying my lights. Was this on accident? NO. The little punk must have been enacting some sort of revenge on me or something.  
  
So, naturally, I went whining to Jean and Scott to let me stay with them and what could they do? They shrugged and said sure.  
  
And yet, I moved myself closer to the eyes.  
  
I jokingly checked with Mr. Logan who grunted out that he was on a beer run at that time. Then I volunteered for monitor duty (which I'm surprised didn't put Dad into cardiac arrest though it didn't leave Mr. Bishop's eyes slightly larger in disbelief). Even there, I couldn't find anything. Fed up with not knowing who or what it was, I went the second day and searched around the woods. I felt the eyes on me the entire time I was bumbling around the woods, but it wasn't until sunset when I saw the eyes again.  
  
For all my courage about going into the woods alone, I ended up chasing it out of the woods and breathlessly back to the pool in back of the mansion. Mr. Remy was just cleaning up his stuff and asked if I was all right. I gave a pathetically nervous laugh and said 'yes' and blamed my odd behavior on the wild squirrels.  
  
Let me tell you, once you pop off with something as inane as that people don't question you anymore.  
  
So instead of spending the next night safe within the mansion which was in a wide clearing, I decided to spend it smack dab in the middle of it all at the boat house.  
  
I shivered. I could have asked Jean to do her psycho sweep or whatever. Could have asked Dad to check it out with me, I know he wouldn't run away from glowing eyes (probably would have felt some sort of kinship to it, in all truth).  
  
Pulling the covers up to my nose I try to think of something to chase away the spine tingling feeling of being watched. In a whimper, I pulled the covers over my head.  
  
My nightmare from the camping trip caressed my mind with the annoying prospect of not being such a nightmare after all. Perhaps it did happen and I was just in a half sleep state of mind? Oh man, that means who ever or whatever this thing is, it followed me from there to here and that is more than a little unsettling.  
  
What if it was my mom? I know, I know, where did this come from? But when I think of fear and death, she's what comes to my mind first. What if she is some type of telepath? It is possible. The Professor would hide something like that from me, probably thinking it was 'for the best' and then letting me find out when she whacked my head off or something.  
  
This was not something I needed to think about while trying not to spook myself any more than I already was. But of course, tell someone not to think about a drunk nun riding a tipsy cow and that's the first thing your mind will conjure up.  
  
And I was under my sheets which mean if the eyes had made it into my room, I'd never know. I could be dead before I would know I was dying!  
  
The sheets hit the floor.  
  
To tell the truth, my feet hit the floor not too long afterwards. I flipped on the light of my borrowed room and sat in the small chair in the furthest corner from both the door and the window.  
  
No sleep for Kerry tonight.  
  
hr Bobby waved his hand in front of my face. With all the muscle I had left that wasn't trying to kill me so it could sleep, I turned to look at him.  
  
"Rough night?" He questioned.  
  
I grunted.  
  
"Rough nights." Jean said. "She's been playing video games these past two nights down in the boathouse with every light on."  
  
Dr. Hank's attention came over to me and I started to sway in my seat.  
  
I'm so tired.  
  
Falling asleep in my grilled cheese sounds good about now. It looks fluffy enough. Nice, warm and fluffy like a pillow when you sleep on it.  
  
"Is there something we need to talk about, Kerry?"  
  
I started to notice my swaying and gripped the table in front of me. It didn't help much. The world continued it's rocking. Ugh, it was getting me sick.  
  
I blinked, but my eyelids didn't want to come up so I pried them open with my fingers before I had to shut them again due to a yawn.  
  
"This is pathetic." I heard someone in a tunnel say. I was just getting comfortable and then I had a weightlessness about me.  
  
"You better be taking her to her room, Bobby." I heard Dad warn to the cloud I was drifting on at the moment. "And leaving her there alone."  
  
"Actually, I was thinking about throwing her into the pool." My eyes snapped open as the fighting side of me started to come alive from its stupor.  
  
"Don't you dare!" I hissed, kicking wildly.  
  
"Oh relax, uptight. I'm taking you to your bed. You look like a zombie."  
  
I glared at him and stuck out my tongue before letting my head lull back.  
  
_There it was, just beyond the sunset. The eyes were shinning back at me.  
  
"Stay away!" I tried to scramble away, to call out to anyone who might be listening. To Jean! Mom! Help!  
  
"They won't hear you." The voice, it sounded so familiar. I couldn't place it but I felt my heart slump as it yelped in pain. "And you have nothing to fear from me."  
  
"I-I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Okay dumb question. I was just waiting for Stitch to pop up out of the blue again and give a stirring rendition of "I'm Just Wild About Harry". "You're not real."  
  
"Perhaps." The voice purred as it stepped into the light. There was no way to describe her, and I say her because the voice sounded distinctly female. "Perhaps not, I've come to you as a friend. Someone in need of understanding, just like you."  
  
"You've been watching me like an insect. I think you need a hobby more than understanding." I snapped. Well how would you act to your phantom follower? I don't think I'd invite her for tea and cookies that's for sure!  
  
"There are things in motion, you can't stop." I raised my eyebrow, shouldn't Stitch be dancing through here any time now? "Your friends are going to die, one by one unless you help me."  
  
She done said the magic phrase. I gnashed my teeth, "What have you done to them?"  
  
As if she were bored, she hmmed and hawwed, "Nothing. I have done nothing. I'm just telling you what the future holds. You need me, and when you realize that, I'll be there. You'll accept me then."  
  
Future? She could see the future? I glared daggers at her…no! I glared A-bombs at her. She sounded just like my mother. My 'mother' was able to see the future. Was this creature actually Heather in a mind reading form? "I don't think I want to continue."  
  
"Fine. You'll want me soon enough. Oh, and by the way," she placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled--or at least I think that's what you call it. I'm not sure. It looked more like she was going to eat me. She leaned in closer, and whispered in my ear, "You're not dreaming." She pushed me hard, losing my balance, I tumbled backwards.  
_  
I hit the tree with my back and then the back of my head. Moaning, I struggled to a sitting position. I had to do a double take of my surroundings. I was outside in the woods where that female thing had talked to me. After realizing this, I flew to my feet and had to settle my breathing back to normal. The fear was true as it pumped through my veins, and my feet were fast as I took off towards the mansion.  
  
Somewhere in behind me, I could hear feminine laughter filling the forest.

* * *

"I'm going insane." I popped off to Chris. "I have a dream girl haunting me."  
  
His eyebrow perked up. "Big deal." Chris went back to his book. I huffed. Bobby was too busy with field exercises, and mom and dad was with him. Those three and most of the senior staff.  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
"I'm stunned." He shot back. He had been disagreeable ever since he decided to talk to me again. Glaring, I swiftly punched him in the arm. "Ow! What was that for?"  
  
"For being a jerk."  
  
He gave me a bitter smirk, "then why isn't Bobby dead?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "I thought I could talk to you but you are too much of a boy to be a help." I was half way off the couch before he grabbed my arm.  
  
"Sit down. Talk. And stop being such a girl about it." He threw the book in an empty chair and crossed his arms as I sunk back down into the couch.  
  
"What's that suppose to mean?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Don't be cryptic. I don't have time to over analyze and pick through hints like girls do when they talk to each other. Tell me in plain, undisguised words what the hell is bugging you so I can get back to ignoring you properly."  
  
"You really are an obnoxious, hot tempered, face covered with acne, single, creep you know."  
  
"And yet you keep coming back." It was the first smirk (which is as close as I can get to a smile with Chris when he is like this). "Talk."  
  
"I've been having this dream about a girl. She keeps threatening me but without threatenting me." I was about to continue when Chris interrupted with a boy oriented question.  
  
"Was she wearing clothes."  
  
I glared, smacked him in the arm, "Yes!"  
  
He shrugged, "too bad, this might be a bit more interested if she hadn't been." I smacked him again.  
  
"Anyway, she keeps saying all this horrible stuff is going to happen. Saying that unless I help her or join her or something, I'm going to be suffering a lot."  
  
He seemed to seriously think about it then , with a sarcastic grin, "What could be worse than being with Bobby?"  
  
I growled, and was off the couch in two point one seconds. "Some help you are!"  
  
"Kerry! It was a joke." SIghing, he continued. "You know our skills, what we are capable of, believe us , not some nightmare." I didn't want to let him know he made sense so I stuck my tongue out at him. "Or you really are just insane."  
  
That's it!  
  
I picked up a pillow and started to smoother him.  
  
I figured that if he passed out from lack of oxygen, at least I wouldn't have to put up with his mad ramblings or make sense insults! 


	103. Guard Thy Tongue

Lucky Me

  
Chapter 103

* * *

Author's Notes: Kudos for me! I'm updating sooner! I actually started to write this as soon as I had posted last time! Isn't that so fun? I thought so. Usually when I do that it means the chapter will be out sooner. And don't hurt my beta! She's got a life too!

* * *

Stupid! I am SO dumb! As Bobby stared at me disbelieving I knew I made a mistake.  
  
"That's a surprise."  
  
I sat there, on the couch, gaping like a run over frog. If what I said was stupid, then there was no word to describe what he had just answered me with. He smiled sheepishly. Maybe he realized what he did was so completely stupid that he has reached a whole new level of stupid!  
  
I clenched my teeth, whirled up and off the couch and broke into a run as soon as I was out of his site. My feet didn't stop until I was safe in my room, leaning against the door and breathing like I had just run from that nightmare girl living inside my head.  
  
Clamping my eyes shut, I tried to make the heat from my cheeks go down, but the only thing I did was start to cry. How could I have been so dumb as to say that of all things to him.

It started a week ago, after I told Chris about my nightmare and Bobby had gotten home in all his goofy glory. Scott had harped on me to make sure that I stayed on top of my studies and Bobby (without Dad knowing) happily elected to help me with my math. Of course like the previous tutoring times when I was actually in his class (which Alexis says that they switched Mr. Poovey from history to math since everyone was complaining about him teaching history. While the grades in history sky rocketed, the math grades…actually stayed pretty much the same.) we got distracted and ended up talking too much and er, well, making out the rest of the time (Bobby and me, not Alexis--ick).  
  
Jean walked in on one of these times and chased him out of the room by pointing every sharp object (we were in the library study with a LOT of pencils, pens, etc. D-M was doing her scrap booking in there) and just telling him, rather dangerously to 'leave.' So after I proved that I had actually gotten my homework done, she let me go.  
  
A day later, Dad and mom were called away and I was messing around in the forest. Don't ask me, I wasn't looking for freaky not-really-a-dream dream girl. I ran into Mr. Bishop making his rounds. This is the point where my IQ started to slump apparently because I asked who would attack us in broad daylight that he felt like he had to patrol the area now.  
  
He answered that anyone who wanted to catch us by surprise.  
  
I then pointed out that we'd be able to see them before then. Shrugging I told him that the best time to attack (to me at least) would be a Saturday because if they attacked on a Monday (which it was) they'd get a lot of hacked off people. Why? Because who in their right minds actually like Mondays? It's the start of a new week and therefore the start of another time chart that we have to make sure to get at least 6 hours worth of time in the Danger Room.  
  
Mr. Bishop left half way through my lecture. I followed him, I only left after I thought I saw his trigger finger itch closer to his gun.  
  
In my wonderings, I saw Mr. Logan. After seeing him, I wondered if the ladies were on the 'does-this-uniform-make-me-look-fat' rampage since all the males seemed to have relocated to 'nature'. Mr. Logan puffed on his cigar and didn't say much so I was going to walk away but then he asked what was wrong.  
  
Slightly confused, "What do you mean?"  
  
"You've been scared spitless the past coupla weeks." Tapping the side of his nose, he smirked. "Wanna tell me what's it about?"  
  
I don't like the super sniffer. He gets about as much information as the mind leeches do without actually invading your personal space. My guard went sky high as I tried to laugh it off like it was nothing. Mr. Logan apparently got a degree in psychiatry because he told me to cut the crap.  
  
"It's nothing, really." I scratched the back of my neck in nervousness. Getting a steady stare from someone who usually hunts with those same eyes kinda made me a wee bit nervous. "Well," I mumbled, "it might be something."  
  
"Does it have something to do with the new scent I caught on you?" His voice dropped an octave and considering how deep his voice is already, that took a lot of talent. Or rage, but since I'm out here alone and he probably knows all the great places to hide a body, I decided to believe it was talent instead.  
  
"I-I-I wouldn't know."  
  
"You stutter when you lie, kid." He puffed on his cigar some more before turning to me with a smile and adding, "And you don't lie well."  
  
I stutter when I'm also scared, nervous, freaked out or trying to make people believe I have a brain the size of an under grown pea. "Well, I best better go, uhm, guess I better go! Better than hearing a liar, right?" I chuckled nervously.  
  
"Stay away from her." His voice had that 'boogie-man' edge to it that caused me to swallow hard.  
  
I kept my eyes steady, but when I spoke, my voice cracked. "Who is she?"  
  
"I don't know but the scent is similar to those that we fight."  
  
I nodded and took off into the woods, aiming to the house.  
  
Then, on Wednesday, I was punched in the stomach by something I hadn't even considered a possible problem. Okay, that's not right, I thought it was possible, but not with me. When pigs fly (probably mutated kittens or something knowing this day and age) would I have ever thought.  
  
With all the crap going on in my life, with all the hardships and hard knocks, I was pretty sure I had solidified myself to the world.  
  
But, as I found out on that day, I guess not!  
  
Bobby and I were goofing off at one of the many small creeks around the lake in the back of the property. We never got much time together without a suspicious person always present and when we did get time together we ran off. I know this probably causes those suspicious minds to raise an eyebrow and feel frustrated that they have clue what's going on, but it's hard to enjoy company with a untrusting (unwanted) chaperon.

Hmm, well, anyway, Bobby and I had run off In the afternoon when Jean wasn't looking and dad buried himself into a computer file. The others had lives, were sleeping or had been absorbed into some goofy movie.  
  
Or they had "gone Wolvie" as my team likes to put it which translates into: someone has left and hasn't told anyone why, where and so on.  
  
Anyway, we were goofing off back there as I said and having a good time. I rambled on about whatever came to mind. I mentioned my sister and how I thought I should call but lacked the backbone to actually eat my pride and talk to her. He smiled and pointed out she probably had already forgiven me.  
  
I laughed, unsure and feeling awkward talking about emotions. Anything dealing with "feelings" always made me want to shut myself into a little metal box, complete with ten million locks which was placed in an airtight coffin in the center of the earth with demon guards lurking and bumbling about. Yes, for some reason I have a 'guy' factor of being weirded out by "let's talk about what we feel". I'm "let's not and say we tried".  
  
Okay, another rabbit trail. So back on topic.  
  
Bobby was in the creek, following my example and standing still. The rocks hurt his feet and he was slightly pouting because of it. We made quite the picture, jeans rolled up to prevent from getting wet and trying to balance on somewhat pointy rocks.  
  
I turned away from him, and wadded to shallower water, trying to not slip on the green stuff growing on the rocks. I was somewhat succeeding.  
  
"You like that don't, you?" He asked. I could only guess he meant the current and I turned around, squinted against the sun with a smile and then got the knock out of my life. If I had any photographic skills (or a camera at that) I so would have wanted a picture of him at that moment.  
  
Though the rolled up jeans still made him look slightly silly, the light from behind him, coming through the trees and shimmering off the water made me lose my breath.  
  
"You okay?" I will be I thought, as soon as my brain decided to stop doing the little pink hearts thing.  
  
I laughed a bit too nervously for my own liking and simply nodded.  
  
Yeah, never better.  
  
I'm going to puke.  
  
On Thursday, my parents and extended 'family' (except for Julie because she was in a real bad mood) never saw me more dedicated or elusive. I was trying to recover from what I realized by focusing on my homework and playing catch up so that I could 'graduate' in May along with all the other homeschoolers we currently had here.  
  
I was battling down the nasty mountain of English assignments when I finally got to one that sorta had me stumped. It was an essay (much grumbling and whining here) and it was "Where I Plan to Be In Ten Years" so I decided to put that away and try something else.  
  
"Write a letter to your family which you need to save and read at the end of ten years…"  
  
Well, this sucks.  
  
I pinched my eyes and rubbed my temples.  
  
I had to face it, there was no way I was going to get very far with this later if I didn't gush out now.  
  
Keeping my eyes closed, I felt around for a piece of paper and began to write. I have no idea if it was in a straight line or not, but this would never been seen by a never person's eyes which didn't get slaughterd ten seconds later.  
  
A solid week after Bobby came home, he was being everything else but adorable.  
  
We had been watching a movie when he pops off about the main actresses wearing too much clothes, I glare, he shrugs and smirks. If he would have stopped there, I wouldn't have wanted to hurt him. But did he stop? OH. NO.  
  
He was a boy and therefore didn't know when it was too much.  
  
Did Bobby leave it off? NO. He had to remind me that he preferred my old uniform because it had even less than my new uniform.  
  
I started to growl. "What?"  
  
Bobby's smirk became even more unbearable. "It's the truth. Did you keep that uniform by the way?" He winked but you don't wink at an angry girl. In fact, you shouldn't breathe in the room of an angry girl. Especially if you are proving just how male you are.  
  
"You--! You--!" I picked up a pillow and shoved it into his face. I scooted away and crossed my arms.  
  
"What'd I say?" He feigned innocence, taking the pillow from his face. "I thought girls appreciated honesty."  
  
I glared at him over my arms and knees. "Only smart honesty, not dumb honesty." I turned my nose slightly up in the air. "If you think it was a smart thing to say it was dumb honesty, if I girl asks you to say something and you do, then it's smart honesty."  
  
"Oh brother…" He flipped his eyes and smashed the pillow into my face for emphasis.  
  
"Hmm ohhruddeeer!" I shouted in the pillow. Once pillow free, I looked him straight in the eye, "Why do you always have to think like that?"  
  
"It was a joke, Kerry." He had a sharper edge to his voice but that didn't stop me.  
  
Turning away from him, I muttered (loudly), "Chris wouldn't have acted that way."  
  
That snapped his already tried patience.  
  
"Why aren't you with Chris if the two of you seem to be such good friends?" He was jealous and just acting out on the anger it induced. I knew this! I did! I knew it then and I know it now! And yet, and yet I was a complete idiot. Did I just choke him or punch a new dent in his ribs? Noooo. That would have been the more violent, yes, but it would have been something I could have held my head up high with later. Not saying I lied, but it sorta came out before I could stop, think or do anything that a wiser person would do.  
  
"I'm not with Chris because I don't love Chris. I love you, you moron." I then smacked him. Two seconds after this, my brain asked 'why is he looking at me like that?' Then my memory came back to me. Oh. My. Claws.  
  
"Uh---"  
  
"What did you say?" Bobby asked slowly, leaning off the back of the couch to look at me closer in the eye.  
  
"Uh…" I slipped it once, so if I faced up to it now, it would hurt a lot less later. "T-that I love you…" Okay, so it was closer to just a worded breath, but still it should count!  
  
"That's a surprise." Those weren't the three words I thought I'd hear.


	104. Run Like Prey

Lucky Me  
  
Chapter 104

* * *

Authoress Notes: -sighs- this is sadly pathetic. Because of my own highly secretive state, I have found myself at an impasse in my life. It really really bites that the root of Kerry's current "sickness" is one of my own as well. Oh well, tis life!

* * *

One question, just this one.  
  
How am I suppose to help save the world if I'm broken down on the side of the highway!?  
  
That's right! I'm broken down on the side of the road with my engine smoking and two of the most cheerful passengers in existence.  
  
Julie and Mr. Logan.  
  
Yes, this is a sadist's dream.  
  
"I can't believe this!" Julie grouched. "Is this your idea of a bloody joke?"  
  
"Oh yes," I purred, lifting up the hood. "I always thought it would be just so funny to be stuck with you in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses." I was pushing the words out through clenched teeth by this time.  
  
The glare off of Julie's sunglasses blinded me enough so I couldn't look her in the eye.  
  
I looked down at the mangle of wires and big black contraptions underneath the hood and then came to a stunning conclusion. I have no idea what I'm doing. Mr. Logan took my spot as I checked up and down the long stretch of empty road for something with four wheels.  
  
No such luck with either the cheepo car I had nor anyone else's cheepo car coming down the road.  
  
"I thought you people kept mobils in cars." Julie reasoned.  
  
"Not in the older models. Scott only started that after he broke down."  
  
"So let me get this straight, instead of putting cell phones in the older and more likely to break down cars---he put them in the new and less-likely-to-leave-you-stranded-with-the-Brit-from-the-seventh-pit cars?" Julie glared at me. I rolled my eyes at her.  
  
"Yup, that's Slim's logic fer ya." He pulled out a cigar and began to chew on it like beef jerky. After ten minutes, Mr. Logan slammed the hood and lit his cigar. "Looks like we're goin' to be walkin'."  
  
"Wot the hell do you mean walk?" Julie was going to be hysterical by the end of this trip.  
  
I smiled at that thought.  
  
"Walk. Invented by the first man to get to point A to point B." Mr. Logan replied, giving her a level stare. Julie opened her mouth to say something else. "And we are going to because no one knows where we are, we can't contact anyone and so help me if you say one more word I'm going to knock yer scrawny butt out and throw you over my shoulder."  
  
Her mouth snapped shut and I chuckled darkly as Mr. Logan took off into the woods.

* * *

"Yes! I planned this all so I would know what hell was like! Thank you!" I put a hand on her shoulder, "thank you so much, Satan." I then tagged on some obviously fake laughter just to get her nerves pulverized. "Now return to the pits from which you came." I jerked away from her and stomped after our leader.  
  
"Summers." Mr. Logan gave a growl to punctuate his point.  
  
Julie grumbled something under her breath but with a pointed look from Mr. Logan, she didn't say them any louder.  
  
Did I forget to mention how we ended up in this mess? Oh that's simple. Well, maybe its not simple but I'm sure at some point in time I might actually chuckle at it. I'll chuckle at it like an insane person (which I don't doubt I will be soon enough if these random act of pointless annoyance keep happening) as I through a puppy into the microwave. Yes, it is that bad and yes I'll have to be that out of it to actually find this humorous.  
  
I had gone on an anti-guy kick which is a bit stressful considering I live on the guys' wing. Every guy who came around me, I growled and glared at. When they got to close I started on my various rants on reasons guys must have been the true mutant, the real hiccup in the genetic evolution.  
  
Why? Heck, isn't that obvious?  
  
I cried. I cried long and hard because that moron who I made that moronic confession to didn't even say anything. That's right! I waited about an hour but I heard him pass to go to his room, but he never stopped by mine to check to see if I was okay or anything. He did NOTHING. Not-a-thing! A day later when I saw him and he smiled at me and just said, "hey, Kookie," I made a scientific conclusion that: Men. Were. Stupid. Have your heart ignored and see if you are fluff and bunnies instead of claws and skunks.  
  
That still doesn't explain how I made it out in the middle of the woods with the nastiest tempered on earth and Mr. Logan. I'm getting there. Okay, so I was basically radiating a tangible air of "Guys suck" and I was itching to either runaway or beat the living crap out of something, stand over point and laugh like a mad girl.  
  
To prevent me from getting into any type of trouble and destroying half the mansion along with me, Dad mentioned that maybe I should drive around. When I asked if he would be oh so willing to pay any tickets I got or be responsible for the massive property damage which I wanted to do, he withdrew the idea with a smile and sighed.  
  
I was able to nab a set of keys from the very guarded key boy by the garage and snuck through the cars trying to figure which car the magic key would open. It was a Ford car with duct tape holding up the front bumper I didn't care, as long as the stupid thing started.  
  
It did, I left  
  
At the school gates, I found a rather stern looking Mr. Logan. I slammed on the breaks and waited for him to make a move. My stolen car growled, I was not so anti-guy as to think that ramming a car into Mr. Logan's gut would do anything but severely annoy him.  
  
"Where ya goin', kid?" He shouted.  
  
I grumbled under my breath. I didn't want to have company and I dang sure didn't want male company. "Out." I yelled back.  
  
"Got yer license?"  
  
Two seconds ticked by….ooops. Guess I missed something.  
  
Muttering profanities under my breath was the only thing I could do as Mr. Logan opened up the passenger car door and slid on in.  
  
"Are you sure you want to be in this car?" I half growled.  
  
As he rolled down the window so he could continue to puff on his cigar, he smirked at me. "I got a healing factor kid, I ain't scared of your driving."  
  
I took that as a challenge.  
  
After the gates shut behind the piece of junk I was driving, I took a left, and then I turned into the dewinged bat from hell. With a foreknowledge of the back roads and their lack of cars at this or any time, I ignored all traffic signs and all curve signs.  
  
I actually made the 'invincible one' put on a seat belt! Not to mention, he let quite a few four letter words be grunted.  
  
"I said I had a healing factor, kid." Mr. Logan reminded me. "I don't know what the hell your thinkin' drivin' like this."  
  
"I'm thinkin' I see Julie." Yes, a speck on the horizon about a mile from us, was Julie standing out like a cheerleader in the middle of a Goth fest. "And I'm also thinking she'd be worth ten points if I hit her."  
  
"Kid."  
  
"Okay, fifteen, but no more she's too thing to even make a decent speed bump."  
  
"Kid."  
  
I looked over at him, he was giving me a distinct 'alpha-male' look and I sighed and slammed on the brakes. The sharp, bat like squeeee the wheels screamed, made Julie jump into the ditch and Mr. Logan's cigar slammed into the windshield.  
  
Growling, he glared at me and then the cigar and then back at me and promptly started to grumbled about females not knowing the worth of a good smoke.  
  
"Wot the bleedin' hell are you daft Yank?!" Julie screamed at me as she picked up her glasses that had fallen a few feet from where she jumped into the muddy ditch. "You tryin' to give me a fledging heart attack?!"  
  
I smiled, "If it helps."  
  
Her fires flared around her as she opened her mouth to throw something back at me. Mr. Logan, once again, came to the rescue. "Get in, Julie, before someone thinks yer goin' to set the woods on fire."  
  
"Smokey says that's bad." I tacked on. I got two glares but Julie did as told and got in the back seat. We drove for another thirty minutes before the car busted.  
  
So there, now you know how I ended up a helpless and innocent victim in the middle of the woods with grumpy-dee and grumpy-doo.  
  
If I didn't stay angry and agitated, I was going to start feeling sorry for myself.  
  
Oh, about the 'saving the world thing', Julie mentioned getting a call on her cell phone about getting back because the X-Cites were going on a mission ASAP. Unfortunately when I scare the tea and sugar out of her, she dropped it in a puddle and the poor thing wasn't water resistant.  
  
"Not very fun, being in the forest, so far from home, is it?" That voice. Oh no.  
  
How the heck did she find me all the way out here?  
  
Shifting my eyes from side to side, trying to find some trace of her eerie body, I was disappointed not to find anything. I flexed my claws as I dropped behind the group. Mr. Logan was puffing like a train and Julie was trailing behind him with her 'I-will-press-the-big-red-button' expression etched on her face.  
  
That witch was here somewhere.  
  
As proof, her laugh filled my ears. I growled. Not a half hearted 'grr' but a deep throated warning that was meant to ward off any would be attackers. I drew my upper lip back unconsciously to let my canines be visible.  
  
"You can't scare what you can't see." She was mocking me! "Let me pose a question to you. Who do you think is the most likely to win, the most powerful or the most manipulative?" I swung my eyes forward, realizing that I had lost the rest of the group due to her little intrusion.  
  
"What are you getting at?" I snarled, slipping into an attack mode.  
  
"You've been hunted before and by that savage, drooling little man but always with the sole purpose of not getting caught." I could feel the malice in her voice along with a smirk that I knew most be on her face. "But what if I was to up the stakes?"  
  
That's when I heard a growl from behind me. A deep, lethal sounding growl that would translate in the animal kingdom as 'run'. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as six shinny slivers of metal became visible.  
  
"Now you have to run for your life, pet." She purred, before letting a clear laugh ripple into the air.  
  
I took her advice. "Julie!" I screamed as I leapt around, over and under things. I couldn't hear Mr. Logan, but I knew he was back there. He was the perfect killer really, stealth, brut force and pure, clean skill. I didn't even have to think or wish for my skin to go black as I went running madly into the forest because the tree branches reached out and grabbed it off of me.  
  
Soon, there was a big black beast (me) being chased by a grizzly bear on steroids. And where the HECK was Julie?!  
  
Trying to find the skinny girl, I completely ignored what was in front of me until it was too late and I was hissing in pain. Staggering backwards, I narrowed my eyes as Mr. Logan-gone-feral stood in front of me, hunched over and growling.  
  
The grip on my arm tightened as I tried to make the bleeding stop. He only nicked me. Though I could take this as a good sign that he hadn't completely lost his thinking, I remembered him telling me once that it was easier for him to follow the scent of fresh blood. It was thicker and hung in the air longer.  
  
If I had my wings still, I thought bitterly as I kept my eyes trained on him, I would have just flown from this entire mess. "Mr. Logan," I was bleeding and pretty badly considering it was only a nick, "It's me, Kerry. Kookie, Summers, whatever."  
  
He only growled and launched at me again. 


	105. Powerfully manipulitive

Lucky Me

Chapter 105

* * *

When I was eight, I got into a car accident.

The seat belt locked and I felt as if I was going to be sliced into two pieces. It would have been more pleasant had I not been wearing that blasted restraining thing. Though it held me steady, it also didn't allow me to escape. I was in the passenger seat when it happened. The dash board slammed into my gut and I was pinned. I wanted to cry out, I wanted to black out, but I didn't do either. It took the cops twenty minutes to show up and then it took even longer to free me.

I miss that dash board.

Mr. Logan was too fast, too experienced. When he lunged at me, I was too afraid to move and the impact of his fist knocked the air out of me from every breath I've taken in the past ten years. I flew back, cracking a few branches in my descent back to earth.

"OAFF!"

I was pretty sure I slide about ten feet before coming to an unsure stop near a few rocks.

Shaking off the debris, I was only able to suck in a breath before having the little wild man pound into me again. I was trying to scream, but they came out as squeaks. It wasn't until I found a part of my body that wasn't bruised and getting battered that I was able to focus. Finding a footing on his chest, I was able to propel him backwards with my strength. I hoped it would be far enough to give me a head start.

I turned, cursing and cringing as each pain became an off key singer in the harmony of hurt flowing through my body. I only was able to stumble a few feet before I heard him come again.

My eyes were wide and terrified as I turned and let out a noise akin to disbelief as his CLAWS aimed right for my head.

"Logan!" I screamed at the last second before the impact. But it wasn't I who received the lethal blow but the tree next to my head.

"Run…..kid…." he growled and I didn't have to be spit at twice.

I took off into the woods, running (mainly tripping) towards the road. Or at least where I thought the road was…

I stopped to catch my breath.

"You never answered." That little witch purred. I found her leaning against a tree, smirking. "Who is the most likely to win? The most powerful or the most manipulative?"

I heard the rustle of leaves and felt my stomach lurch. He wasn't too far behind me.

"Why are you doing this to me? What did I _ever_ do to _you_?"

A soft growl, maybe thirty seconds.

"It's not what you did to me, it's what you can do _for_ me." She purred and looked past me. I turned my head and felt my fear wrap around my throat. Mr. Logan stood there, eyes wild and claws gleaming.

"What did you do to him?" I breathed out, too afraid to move. He would pounce as soon as I did, like a wolf on a rabbit.

"Believe it or not, his mind is pretty reckless and that makes it hard to steer. Your friend though, she's another matter."

JULIE!

Daring it, I peered over Mr. Logan's shoulder and there she was. One hand extended with a green brown flames engulfing it, a blank stare on her face. That's what she meant when she said 'powerful' or 'manipulative'!

There was no way to get to her though! I had a strong, drooling beast in front of me who was going to kill me at any moment.

Then another thought dawned on me. If she wants me to do something, then maybe JUST maybe, she wouldn't allow me to get killed. Of course I know next to nothing about this girl besides that she seems like some type of mind leech.

"Tick tock." She chirped behind me, reminding me slightly of D-M. I felt so tired, my vision was blurring and my body was begging me for rest. How the heck did this happen so fast?

"How?" I tried to stall. Like I'm always trying to do it would seem. I'm always trying to stall.

"Hmm, let me think." She deadpanned. "If you would have been thinking, you would have realized what a trap this was. After all, who do you think it was that caused your little fire starter to walk out all this way?"

Okay, I thought that Julie being out here was pretty weird, but I never even imagined anything like this.

"You are probably wondering how deep I am into the minds of your friends." No, I wasn't. Not really. If that sick chick wanted to go tromping through their minds, hey it was fine with me because apparently they hadn't been mind slammed enough to realize that anyone being 'up stairs' is a _bad_ thing. "Do you give?"

I wasn't going to talk again! Hello! There was a VERY intimidating little guy in front of me!

Time seemed to freeze. The leaves stopped blowing, the heavy pant/growl coming from Mr. Logan couldn't be heard and all the color drained away from the world around me.

"Wha--?"

Mr. Logan wasn't budging, Julie's flames stopped flickering and the demon girl walked in front of me. "Hmm," She smirked, tapping her index finger on the side of her face. "I actually came to tell you something."

"Why _me_?" I questioned her again. "Why not someone with more--whatever it is you are looking for?"

She stiffened, her smirk slipping. "Trust me, kiddo. I didn't pick you first. You just were easier to get to."

Oh goody. I'm an easy target, that makes me feel SO much better.

"In two days, they'll be another compound, like the one's you have gone to before. There will be another massacre, but more importantly, you will be going there. At that compound, who ever goes with you, will kill you." She nodded towards Julie. "I've been working on your team from a distance for some time now."

"Why are you telling me this? I'll just make sure not to go to that compound with or without my team."

"Because I have something you want. A certain address to someone who is responsible for the lose of your beautiful wings."

Heather.

The girl jumped from where she was and disappeared. The world slowly started to turn back into a colourful location. "Oh, and pet, one more question. How deep in your mind do you think I am?"

And then POW.

I feel down, as if gravity localized on my head and sent me down like a two ton brick.

* * *

"..two cracked ribs. That's pretty convincing, Logan." Dr. Hank?

"I'm telling' ya, I don't know what happened. She was fine one moment and then dropped like a ton of bricks the next." What? He was there. He attacked me. He doesn't remember? What do I have to have, three puncture marks from his claws or something?!

"And what were you three doing in the middle of the woods?" Dad? They're having a group meeting above me? Maybe I'm the table…

"The car broke down." He grumbled something about Dad being a cheap, uhm, arse and said he should get rid of the P.O.S. "We were walking back here, she doubles over and then passes out."

"Falling to the ground would not cause her to acquire--such injuries. Not unless it was from ten feet and she is barely five-seven." Hey! I am not 'barely' five-seven! I_ am_ five-seven! Sheesh, be nice to the corpse!

"Ungghhh…" I growled out at them.

"Try opening your eyes, dork." Chris? Oh good grief. Where was I? The male locker room?…that would explain the smell. Ack! What if I _am_ in the male locker room? Oh gag! What if they are just in their jock straps or something! Icky! Ugh, I'm going to vomit. There is _no_ way I am opening my eyes now!

"Kookie!" D-M….if she is here…then maybe I _am _in the medical lab…then again…knowing how much she, er, enjoys being with the guys---it could be the male locker room.

"Open your eyes, git." Julie.

My eyes opened. I half expected them to be towering over me like pillars but only Chris was lingering around.

"About time. I was wondering if I was going to have to jump start your brain." He smirked, letting the electricity dance at his fingertips.

Bobby was on the other side, as I turned my head to check out where I was. He was giving a slight smile.

"Please, if not for the crowd you be giving her mouth-to-mouth." Julie pointed out in her normal bored fashion.

He rolled his eyes.

I groaned and tried to sit up only to find that the pain in my rib cage had other ideas and slammed me on my back.

"Not so fast there, Kookie." Yeah, thanks for telling me that now. It really helps _after the fact_.

"What happened to ya, kid?"

"Probably tripped over a root." Julie piped up. I glared at her. She stood behind everyone and flipped me off when they weren't looking.

"How'd---I get back?" I rasped.

"Carried ya." Mr. Logan stated, chewing on his cigar. "You been gainin' weight or somethin' kid?" They've already called me short---now I'm fat?!

"You seem to have sustained minor head injury." Chris snorted at that. Bobby was kind enough to smack him for me. "Have you experienced these seizures before?"

I didn't have a seizure. That wicked girl was trying to make her point. She was showing me how strong she is and how deep she is into my mind. I don't understand how! Jean told me that it would hurt immensely if someone tried to get in there. Well, it did hurt. But she must have gotten in some other time or else when I'm dreaming.

She's been appearing in my dreams a lot. Maybe I just need to cross reference the files to see if there is a mutant with a lot of telepathic ability with one who likes to muck around with innocent, pessimistic girl's dreams.

"No." I answered honestly. I never had a seizure before that I knew of. Maybe I was dreaming again. I had to be dreaming. They continued to bustle about me and take wild guesses at things, but nothing added up to them. I did the best to convince myself that everything was just my mental instability (come on, I run around in tights, how sane _can_ I be?) working over time.

But if everything was a dream, if I was just hallucinating for whatever reason…then nothing was real. I don't have to worry about my team or anyone else and any complex.

Right?


	106. Better Off In a Pine Box

Lucky Me

106

* * *

Author's Please-Don't-Kill-Me-I-Have-a-Valid-Excuse-This-Time note: I do! I do! I shwear! My laptop completely busted on me and I had to wait THIS long to get my old desktop from home! .;; Not to mention that ----I'm getting married! That's right! I'm getting married and spent the majority of my Christmas vacation talking to my intended and trying all the dresses in creation (or so it felt like!). N-E-WAY! There are only 2 more parts after this! JOY!! 

Disclaimer: The X-peoples and all notable people are copyright to the people who has the legal say so.

* * *

It took a few days, but Dr. Hank was finally convinced that I was okay to run out of the med. Lab. Of course as soon as I ran out of the medical lab, I ran into Bobby. Now, for those of you who are keeping track, this is the guy I confessed to loving who, in turn, didn't say anything equally as shocking. 

Lately, before the demented girl turned Julie against me and controlling Mr. Logan to jump after me like a rabid wolf, I had been learning how to sneak around the house without seeing Bobby. Whenever he was down visiting me in the med. Lab, I would fake sleep.

So needless to say I wasn't too chatty with him when he met me outside the door.

"Hey, good to see your back on your feet." Though you keep trying to get me on my back---wait! No! Bad thought! Bad thought!

"Yeah, well, uhm, can't become a professional couch potato until after I become rich." I laughed nervously and tried to get around him, but he stood in my way. I would step to the left; he'd step to the left. You get the idea.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, that cute little smile on his lips.

"Yeah, away from here before Dr. Hank decides I need another shot in the behind."

He flinched at that. Hmm, so it would seem that he has felt the pleasure of having the needle in a "fleshy" part of him as well.

"I'll come with you." Bobby smiled and let me pass but kept in step with me to make sure he kept to his word.

I was at a loss, I felt my cheeks fire up when I remembered about the last time I was alone with him. It slipped out! Really! It did! Did I lie? No. Should I say that it was? Maybe. But lying about it would require me bringing it up, something that made my blood turn yellow and my nose and mouth morph into a beak.

My destination was the kitchen. I was hoping that everyone was in there eating, fighting doing whatever else is able to be done in the kitchen in brood daylight.

No one. Not even a mouse or a cockroach was there.

Great.

Completely and utterly alone with Bobby.

Normally, I would be doing mental back handed flips of joy but right now with all these questions unanswered I wasn't doing anything but wanting to be in the middle of the Danger Room with ten sentinels pointing their guns at me.

"You're quiet." He pointed out, as I walked from cabinet to cabinet taking the things out I needed to make something to eat.

Pretending not to have heard his question, "Hungry?"

He smirked and came in for the kill. I had no time to do much of anything but squeak in surprise as his lips quickly meet mine. My eyes grew large before (on their own violation I swear!) they closed and I, again, just melted.

Gross and gushy? Trust me, it's not if you are in it. I felt him smile against my lips because of the reaction. He broke off the kiss and looked down at me, my head was spinning. He was smirking and I was having a hangover.

Bobby finally stepped away and I tried to focus on something besides his presence. Like an ice cold wave, I remembered. There was a difference in the way I saw him and in the way he saw me. I loved him and he wasn't so enthralled with me, or at least he didn't tell me that. I needed to know that.

"Bobby?" I questioned; he tipped his head again.

"OH GROSS!" A scream made me jump and check out the door. Adrian was there, his face contorted in utter disgust. "Come _on_, people have to eat in here you know!"

Blushing, I forgot about my stomach and booked it out of the kitchen.

* * *

"You can't be real!" I jumped to my feet as I glared Chris down. "When did you _ever_ get a say so in my life?" 

"Since I am a part of your team, limp brain." He gave me, what I consider to be a very wicked and smug grin.

"Children, this is not the way to resolve this." Professor tried to calm us down but because he called us 'children' it only serve to further irritate us both.

"How many times do I have to tell you that it isn't your business!" He'd been doing this for about a week (10 days since the insane whacko nearly killed me) and he had been going on and on about how I wasn't ready for heavy work again. It was just a few cracked ribs for Pete's sake!

"I'll keep this up until you stop trying to kill yourself!"

"And I'm never trying to kill myself, you dolt. And even if I was, it's none of your business! Dr. Hank said I was fine so shut-up about me not being fit enough for the field!" He sucked in a deep breath and sat back down in his chair. I followed his example but crossed my arms and huffed in annoyance.

"Chris, will you please state as to why you think Kookie should not be allowed into any Danger Room or Field exercises?" Professor shot me a look, "and Kookie, let him finish this time."

"Like I said before, I'm not doing this to be a prick." Professor raised an eyebrow at that. Storm got an amused look on her face for some warped reason. "I _saw_ her falter in the Danger Room just two day ago. She was suppose to raise up something that was only a hundred pounds and she nearly collapsed under the pressure. Later, she was holding her sides and gritting her teeth and things like that."

"Is this true, Blight?"

"No." I could feel Chris' eyes narrow on me. "I did trip up but that because I second before I had to lift that thing, a simulated mutant had me in a crush hold. If Mr. Super-Observant would have truly been watching, he would have seen that." This time, I wore the smug expression.

Storm looked down at the Professor who held his eyes steady on Chris and me. They were both silent for a few minutes before the Professor spoke up. "It would seem that there was a simple misunderstanding. I can see where you would be concern that Blight's recent injuries might be more severe then we thought, but she has passed the medical examine and has been able to move about freely with no hindrance giving evidence of being injured."

Ha ha! Eat that Mr. Know-it-all-brat-child!

"However," Uh-oh. "To put all our minds at ease, I will request that you, Kookie, take another examine. Since you assure us there is nothing wrong, I will assume there will be no protesting?"

Heh, fancy way of saying that if I don't so this, it'll send up a red flag in everyone's mind. But more than that, it would prove that Chris was right and I was hiding something. I _was_ hiding the fact that my injuries were a bit more of a pain than I let on, but I wasn't going to be grounded for the rest of my time.

"Fine with me, I have nothing to hide."

"Then do so now," Professor prompted. "And Chris, please remember to keep your own feelings out of team choices."

His jaw was so tight I thought his bottom teeth would be embedded into his nose. He got up to go, and I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." Chris muttered under his breath.

Once we were both outside, I turned to him. "I guess you got---"

"He was wrong. Don't even think I still _like_ you or anything." Chris' blue eyes narrowed as he pointed a finger at me. "I did this because you are a weak link in the team right now. If I have to depend on this team to save my ass, I want them to be in their best condition. You aren't and you know it. You aren't going to be the one who gets killed because you have this inferiority complex."

I took this all coolly. "Keep your eyes elsewhere then on me."

"Don't see anything that's not there." He ground out in a low voice before backing off. It was like his previous actions disgusted him now and Chris wanted to make believe that it didn't happen. He wanted to pretend that he didn't make an idiot out of himself. Heh, if he only knew how many of our problems were similar this go around, he'd be amazed.

"Whatever." I repeated his earlier statement and turned to go to the medical lab.

* * *

I looked at the X-rays that were up on the light dock thing. 

Dr. Hank was saying how the bones were fine and went into elementary mode because Chris was there. He was saying how there wasn't anything wrong with me. My bones were whole and any slight fractures were healed.

But I saw them.

There were three, two on one rib, one on another. I felt it, but I guess my adrenaline takes over the pain or something. But how come Dr. Hank wasn't seeing it? Not to mention Chris was begrudgingly agreeing to seeing nothing.

"So, Mr. Bradley, are you satisfied?" Beast gave the boy a toothy grin and Chris admitted defeat.

"Maybe it doesn't say it here, but I know what I saw." With that, he turned and left. I soon followed Chris after having Dr. Hank reaffirm that perhaps I should be a bit more careful when it came to the danger room exercises.

I was confused, I know _I_ saw the fractures or cracks or whatever. But how come they didn't?

* * *

Thinking it over for a day, I reached a conclusion and set out trying to find where Jean was currently hiding. I found her in the boathouse fussing over some stew she was making. I made idle chatter for a few minutes, trying to figure out a delicate way to ask a weird question that might have me getting a CAT scan in the end. 

"So, uhm, I have a hypothetical question." Jean's shoulders instantly tightened.

"Oh?" I'd asked her serious questions under this guise before, which is probably why she was reacting this way.

"Don't worry! It's nothing that _is_ happening this time!" Okay, that was just a lie and it didn't ease her tension I could tell because her shoulders stayed just as square. "I was wondering if there was some freaked out way a telepath could---invade someone's mind who knows how to protect themselves against telepaths."

"There is a way, yes." Jean didn't seem to want to cough up any more information, but I prodded and was rewarded with a longer answer and a deep sigh. "Having someone's permission makes it morally okay, but normally it is very easy for a telepath to slip into anyone's mind. True, that it comes to a power struggle when it is two telepaths, but still one will eventually win."

"So is there like a back door or something?"

"You might be able to say that in a way. When a person is completely at ease or when they are sleeping is the easiest time to 'sneak' in to their mind. Their defenses are down and if you do accidentally leave some sort of impression, you can just make them feel as if it were a dream." She was adding a lot of salt. I guess I was distracting her too much from her cooking that she didn't even realize what she was doing. Finally, after half a bottle, I snatched it from her.

"Any particular reason why you found the subject of telepathy so appealing?" She smiled and raised one of her neatly trimmed eyebrows.

"Curiosity and all." I gave what I hope was a truthful 'aren't-I-cute' smile. "Know thy enemy and all."

Jean accepted that answer, but I wasn't being very honest. I had a suspicion that it was the creepy girl showing off her powers again. The supposed mission was supposedly in two days. All these things made me leery of how far she was willing to go to get me there.

If Dr. Hank had found out about my pain and injuries, he wouldn't have let me do anything for another two weeks at the least.

* * *

Scott, just to prove to everyone that I was okay, decided to give us a grueling round o' fun in the Danger Room. I swear that man gets some sort of desturbing kick out of watching us dodge bullets, getting burned and then being squashed under a sentinels foot! 

But regardless of what Mr. Evil had done, I had a mission. While still in uniform from the exercise, I went to my room.

The next destination was the computer files. I figured if anything was being studied, Dad would have it all jotted down for nosy little bodies (me) to peek through.

I went back to my room and logged in. When I signed on to the computer's main

Internet thing, it dinged me and said I had an e-mail waiting. Figuring I could spare the few minutes, I clicked on the mailbox.

It was from Bobby.

Gulping, I clicked on it. I expected it to be some sort of joke he forwarded but instead what I found was this ridiculously long letter.

It started off with how annoyed he was that I wasn't talking to him like I use to, and he went into how if I didn't like him anymore, then I just needed to say it and go out with Chris instead if that is what I really wanted. I felt bad at the first half of the letter but by this time I was seeing red.

How could that moron think I wanted anything to do with _Chris_? Was this is over sized jealous bone poking out or what! Growling and forgetting about whatever the heck I came in to look at and went stomping to Bobby's room.

"Petite havin' a bad day?" Gambit asked as I went past his room.

"'Petite' is going to give someone _else_ a bad day!"

Bobby opened his door and just as I was going to give him what for, he smirked and beat me to talking. "I knew if I couldn't charm you over here, I could always tick you off enough to come."

"You meant to tell me you did all of that on purpose to just get me in here?!" He nodded with a happy smile and I turned on my heel to leave. I didn't get far because he grabbed my wrist, tugged and effectively tossed my hiney in his room.

"Nice touch, Drake." Mr. Remy laughed. "That'll get your tail kicked in no time." After that Bobby shut the door and by this time I had recovered. I pretended to brush off some imaginary dirt from my sleeves. If he wanted me here angry then he'd get me angry.

"Oh come on, Kookie. It was just a joke."

I crossed my arms and stuck my nose up in the air.

Bobby sauntered over to me, put one hand at the curve of my waste, another one at the base of my neck and said, "You stink."

I was tired, sweaty, and above all confused. Here stood the first love of my life and he was being anything but charming. So what he might have started off as a joke quickly came down to a fight. We were only interrupted once, and that was by Chris' voice coming through the comm. Link saying that we had just been assigned to a mission.

"We will have to continue this later, Robert." I hissed after he made a rather snide comment about being Chris on-call girl.

"I'm not sure I _want_ to!"

Okay, that was a stab, it made me blink in shock, but I still continued. "Only because you are incapable of holding a mature conversation more than once a week!"

"We all can't have rods rammed up our as---"

"I have to _go_!" I cut in. My eyes were already to get lined with tears. I didn't want him to stop and feel sorry only because I started to cry. So I bit my lip and turned to leave.

"Make sure you don't come back this way for a while." He snapped.

I twirled around to face him; "You probably wish I really _was_ dead!" I screamed, hurt and lashing out to make him hurt just as bad.

"You'd be a _lot_ easier to live with!" He screamed back.

If I thought I had been hurting before, I was wrong. I was so mistaken that there was no way I could be in any more pain then I already was. His words sliced through me—no, there was nothing for him _to_ slice through. With those words I had been blown away and disintegrated into nothingness. I left my mouth open, disbelieving what I just heard.

"K-Keh—-Kerry..." He tried to touch me, to reach out to me. But I was blind to his nice intentions. How could he _try_ to be nice? How could he _even_ think that it would help?

The communication link came crackling through, "BLIGHT! Here _now_."

It was just what I needed, an escape. With tears in my eyes, I turned away. I started to walk away slowly, but then, I ran.

By the time I got to the bay, I was red in the face and looked like I had just left a fist fight and loss.

I sat down in the plane, eyes were all on me.

"Kookie?" D-M tried to coax me into responding.

I sniffled and then locked my eyes in a glare. "We have a mission to do." I spat it out and I saw Chris nod as he got the plane ready for take off.

I would have to think on this later, right now, my first priority was my mission. How needed a heart when beating the crap out of the bad guys?


	107. Recording

Lucky Me

Chapter 107

Author's Note: the computer that I was working on died. No, I'm not joking. I totaled three computers in about two or so months. Well, make that four because my roommate's computer is also dead now. Anyway, I have spring break coming up and I can't wait to be able to draw!

DISCLAIMER: X-Men belong to Marvel.

* * *

RECORDING: 

SHOCKWAV

They want me to tell it like it is or was or whatever the hell the right word is. Fine. I'll tell them exactly what happened! We were sent to the slaughter because they didn't want to get off their lazy asses to help us! _That's _what happened!

All they do is brain wash us to do their bidding and what is our pay? TO freakin' DIE with a damn X on our chest!

I skeeeeecan'tdumb

END RECORDING

* * *

RECORDING: 

SHOCKWAV

Okay, they told me to control me temper because if I don't I'll fry the circuits all over again in their big computer. Big freakin' deal. Like I'm suppose to care if their computer _dies_? Buy or build a new one and there you go. Give me _her_ back, rebuild _her_ and then I'll stop deep frying the precious Cerebro.

Oh yeah, I'm also suppose to watch my mouth. I don't know why. It's not like the damn computer is going to blush.

Keh, I can't believe I let them talk me into this _again_. Jean thinks that if I talk it out, I'll feel better. Let me beat Scott into a bloody, whimpering pulp every day till I feel better and he feels as bad as I do right now and I'll call it justice. That is what I would call therapy.

He didn't even cry.

He stood there with his mouth open for about two seconds and then walked away.

Walked away!

What kind of coward is he? Couldn't he look the rest of the team in the eye! I betcha he couldn't because he _knew_ it was his fault! Spineless.

Worthless.

I don't see how this is suppose to help me. I'm just getting angry all over again.

END RECORDING.

* * *

RECORDING: 

SHOCKWAV

It's been two months.

Eight very long weeks of having people tell me that I need to adjust to the idea that she is probablybut they weren't _there_. Yeah, I'm not so angry at Scott. I still hate his boy-scout guts but I don't want to kill him with blunt objects anymore. I've improved. I put his face on a lot of the targets in my games and blow his head off artificially.

Great stress reliever.

They had a funeral for her today. Maybe that's why I'm so depleted of my normal smart assie-ness. But whatever. No, they didn't put a body in the casket. They didn't _ever_ find a body _to_ put in there. They buried some of her stuff. What actually went in there could have fit in a shoe box.

And just to prove what bastards they are, they gave me the 'honor' of telling her sister last week. DarcyGod, I don't know how to put what she sounded like after I told her. I had to tell her face to face, you just can't _call_ someone about something like that. She cried for hours.

I haven't cried at all.

She isn't dead.

She couldn't be.

I don't want to talk about this anymore.

END RECORDING

* * *

RECORDING 

SHOCKWAV:

Fine. I'll get this over with. The sooner I tell them what they want to know, the sooner I'll be able to go back to loathing them from my "cave" and don't have to worry about their prissy asses trying to tell me what I should do.

If this is what it takes. Fine. I'll do it. It's been 15 weeks.

Fifteen weeks ago, KerryKookie, what ever! Blight was disappeared on a mission. There. I admitted it. She's currently missing in action. They try to get me to admit that she's dead but I refuse to let that come into my mind. Maybe she Godmaybe she is still out there?

AndAnd the what ifs still come into my mind. What _if_ she was trapped under that ruble and _they_ just got tired of working? Of looking for her? What if she was _there_ when she heard the jet engines fire up for the last time and disappear into the distance?

Did she cry? Did she pray? Did she scream out for us to come back? God, what if she wasn't really gone but because of us, she is _now_! What if…?

That is what is in my nightmares. Seeing her there, screaming out till her voice goes horse and crying when she realizes we aren't coming back…

I'm sorryI can't dothis right now.

END RECORDING

* * *

RECORDING 

PHOENIX

Chris has been diagnosed with depression recently, we found out he wasn't eating and that Julie had been covering for him for some time. Giving him "injections" of her flames to lift his spirits when around the rest of the members of the house.

We've designated Dr. Frese to talk to him, but she is hesitant. Apparently Kerry pulled some sort of horrible trick on her and she is now fearful of anyone from Xavier's. It would appear that Kerry has left a legacy of trouble in her wake.

Since Chris is unable to log in and tell us what happened through his point of view, I will record what it is we know about the situation that caused the death of Kookie.

Several weeks ago, Cerebro picked up a deeply distressed mutant in Kentucky. When we investigated the matter further, we found out it was another holding base, much like the few we found where all the employees where mercilessly slaughtered. We sent the X-citers to see if they could shed some light on the situation. The professor, Scott and Ororo felt they were ready for a solo mission.

We didn't know the magnitude of this mission.

From what we could gather, when they got there they were met with someone who only referred to himself as "Country Boy". Black Flame reported, later, that she couldn't read his emotions. There was no hate, rage, pride, nothing. I can only assume he was a puppet.

By who? I'm unsure.

We are still trying to work this out.

Also, that Chris was shot by this man after making a mouthing off to this man. Kia was told to stay behind to heal him, Flex was instructed to take down "Country Boy" while Black Flame was instructed to try and find anyone else in the complex.

This is where all the information gets fuzzy. We have their communication messages automatically saved. The entire mansion has listened, replayed and over analyzed everything what feels like a million times. All we can come up with is that Black Flame said she'd take left, Blight take the right so that they could grab as many people as possible.

The next contact we have from Blight was that she needed backup and then that they seemed like zombies. More puppets, most likely, from the same telepath. Maybe a reanimator? We are still unsure. Thenshe sent a message she was going into the lower levels to try and stop the source, assuming she could find and identify the source when she saw it. The last message we received from her was that the building was falling apart and all around her. She cried out, sheher comm link died after that.

Kia, Shockwav and Flex were out of the building, Julie had just emerged when the entire complex fell in on itself.

They tore the building up, for half a day we didn't hear from them. After three hours we arrived and helped with the search for survivors. Just like the rest of the complexes visited, all were dead. Either killed by gun shot from Country Boy or crushed under the building.

We didn't find Kerry, we believe she was much too fair under the rubble. We did, though find part of her uniform and her name badge. It was badly damaged. What really happened? We are unsure of that. A group of X-Men went to the local towns but they'd not seen her either.

We have to believe she is dead. Killed in the line of duty.

That concludes the business part of the conversation.

On a more personal noteI've never seen Bobby so torn up. He was with us during the excavation and he found some necklace or some type of jewelry and started to cry. When Rogue pointed this out, he quickly iced up and walked away, saying there was no point for trying to find her body.

I don't know what happened before she left, but his thoughts were sodark. They were all negative, and to himself. He, naturally, doesn't want to talk to me.

I can't believe she's gone.

I've lost another daughter.

Scott, he's beenquiet about this as well.

Heh, I wonder if he is afraid Charles will send him to the psychiatrist as well?

END RECORDING

* * *

RECORDING: 

BLACK FLAME

Okay, I don't understand why if one of us is as black as death the rest of us innocent bystanders have to be forced to interact with bloody machines. They are only good for storing food and shaving your legs.

To get this over with, yes, I saw them. There was the black headed beast from the east and some other type of being. I saw her flicker out, too. But then you know, I don't think it was her who sent the last call.

That's right, she'd gone out a bit before that. Completely gone and then, then we got that message.

Wot-ever, doesn't matter to me. Not like I care, not like I was her friend or she mine.

END RECORDING

* * *

RECORDING: 

SHOCKWAV

Three weeks. Three freaking long weeks! What the hell is wrong with them! I'm suppose to pour out my soul to a machine that can't blush and doesn't give a damn if Ieat cookies in my underwear in front of it or not. But _they_ do. For some reason_ they_ suddenly care about the world and make me go to a grief center for _three weeks_. The only thing positive about it was that the nurses wore short dresses.

. Three freaking long weeks! What the hell is wrong with them! I'm suppose to pour out my soul to a machine that can't blush and doesn't give a damn if Ieat cookies in my underwear in front of it or not. But do. For some reason suddenly care about the world and make me go to a grief center for . The only thing positive about it was that the nurses wore short dresses. 

And the only entertainment? I kept frying the circuits.

Anyway, I heard what Jean had to say about this all. And yeah, that's basically what I know that happened as well. I was withering in agony not keeping a detailed journal. As for the reactions, Bobby has beencheerful. It's fake as Christmas in July, but he is still putting on that mask.

WhenJean suggested he help her clean out Kerry's room, the mask slipped and for a nano-second, and she retracted the offer when so much hurt could be seen. I guess that's what I look like too. Great. Now me and the block head have something in common.

Can't you feel my joy?

END RECORDING

* * *

RECORDING: 

ICEMAN

It's been a long time. Charles wants me to express my feelings to this thing. I know they'll listen to it. I wonder if they use this for blackmail in the future?

"Gee, listen how pathetic Bobby sounds! Tee-hee, isn't it funny?"

I can't help but think about her everyday. It's been about four months, a bit longer than that. She lived a few doors down from me. And you know, in the beinging we didn't get along at all. It wasn't until after the sentinel attack the mansion, her first time, that I started to see her differently. I held her when she was scarred and I didn't mind it.

Heh, who _ever_ minds a beautiful girl crying on their shoulder and holdingon to you so tightly. After that, I still picked on her with other's around but I tried my hardest to get alone with her. It was during these times I got to know her and eventually wanted something more from her. Kerry took a long time to coax her into my arms again. But when she did get therewow, I didn't want her to go.

And now?

Now I'm alone again.

She's gone and the last thing I told her was that she was easier to live with if she was dead. I lied. God, I lied. I didn't know what I was saying when I said it. We had both been upset and thenthen I said that to her and I can't described the look on her face.

I broke her heart.

I wish I could laugh through this.

I remember when she told me she loved me, I was in shock and she ran. After the shock wore off, I found myself smiling about it. _She _cared for me that much. She is like Scott, ick, can't believe I'm comparing her to him but they both like to keep emotions under lock and key. Although, hehe, I remember some times when she'd just to the wrong conclusions and make a joke out of her self.

She loved me and the last thing I told her was that I basically wished she was.

Now I'm crying.

Great, I just said I was crying. This will be on record for the rest of my life. Wonderful.

I miss, Kerry. I'm guessing that is what they wanted for me to hear.

But what she wanted to hear?

That I love her? That I only realized that I did after she was gone and I felt like someone had killed me along with her.

IIam signing off now.

END RECORDING.

* * *

RECORDING: 

CYCLOPS

We have decided to close the case on Blight, having no further information to offer on the case the best we can do is chalk it up to an accident while on the field. Charles and I feel it is for the best. If this was to stay open any longer, there are those who were attached to her. Bobby and Chris seem to be having the most difficulty adjusting to the facts.

I'm not exactly thrilled about it either, but how many kids have I lost?

Though not blood, Kerry was still our daughter. I still lost another child. Is this some sort of curse? I've lost all the women I ever loved have died, some repeatedly. Just because it happens a million times, it still hurts.

Chris accused me of being heartless. Bobby just said it with his looks and words. Jean understands better than they do, but she still is hesitant towards me on this topic.

I had to leave my children behind, lose them and watch them suffer. No matter how old they get, how distant they become it is still a child. I didn't raise her from infancy, she was sixteen when she became ours, but she was mine. It doesn't take long to fall in love with a child that everyone knows is yours. I never knew how the Professor viewed us until I had Christopher and then I didn't have him anymore. I had Rachel and then I didn't have her anymore. Now, Kerry. Kerry came and now I don't have her anymore either.

There are some wounds time can't heal and the scars that are left are so sensitive that the barest mention of something that was that person. That movie that her _creature_ of a stuffed animal came on while I was vacuuming and I just stood there. I couldn't think for a moment and then Jean came in and I was grateful for my glasses.

There are some things that no one wants to talk about. This is one of them.

My concluding thoughts, this was a great lose. She'll be very much missed, she already is and she always will be.

I just want to let her know, wherever she may be, that II love her. And that even in the end as in the very beginning, I'm so very proud of her.

I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you this earlier, Kerry.

END RECORDING

* * *

POST Author's Note: NO KILLING ME! I'm working on three different things involving either the time line or characters or both ;) meow! OH! Thank you for the wonderful reviews! This has been a rockin' time with y'all! You've made it so fun to be cruel to characters :) I can't express enough what all the fans meant to me! I love y'all! 


	108. Epilouge

Lucky Me

Epilouge

* * *

Author's Note: For those who were kind enough to leave reviews, thanks! And I will not stop writing fanfiction just because I'm gettin' hitched. He is a gamer. This leaves lotsa time for me to do whatever dastardly deeds I come up with ;) Enjoy my pretties! mwhahahahahahah!

* * *

He grabbed two cups from the cupboard, without really thinking about it.

No one questioned him when he did this, no one even raised an eyebrow when Chris would leave one cup untouched in front of the Rec. room TV. When they used to, he'd glare at them and then turn away quickly. It was none of their damn business what his reasons were.

Walking to the 'fridge, the young man pulled out the hidden reserves of coke from the back, smirked and turned back to the counter and cups. Pouring the liquid in, he smiled and shook his head, remembering a time when she had shaken up the soda before allowing him to open it. Chris had ended up drenched in the sticky drink and she ended up near doubled in laughter.

Then she ended up running for her life as he decided to turn the ruined soda on her.

Shaking his head, Chris replaced the coke bottle, picked up the glasses and slowly made his way down to the rec. room where he'd spend the next three hours watching a movie. Scanning over the TV guide, the boy then remembered to check the calendar, he sighed deeply.

It was her night to choose the movie.

It was a semi-tradition to switch weeks back and forth. Chris with his 'macho-testosterone driven' movies and her with the 'chick-flicks that can kick behind' movies.

Flipping the appropriate channel, Chris settled in to make fun of the chick-flick of the South, 'Sweet Home Alabama'. It was always fun to poke and insult the lead guy. She had always liked the man's blue eyes. Chris' face soured, she liked Bobby's eyes for the same reason. 'Because they were so beautiful' and all the other things girls gush over about their boyfriends.

Two hours later, Chris picked up his cup and chip bag. Stretching, he looked over at the girl who eyed him from the doorway. "What?" He snapped. "Never seen a guy clean up after himself or something?"

Daisy shook her head slowly. "No, butyou forgot a glass." She pointed to the black metal cup now sitting in a ring of water from its own sweat.

Chris grunted and started to leave. "Aren't you going to get it?" Daisy-Mae asked innocently.

Without so much as a glance or glare cast over his shoulder, "No. The lazy bird can get it herself."

"But Chris"

"I said no."

Sometimes they still bugged him over her problems. Professor had even expressed a concern for the young man in the months following their most notable mission as the X-Citers. Running his fingers over the banister of the staircase after throwing his mess into the kitchen, Chris didn't look until he got to the male hall.

There stood her door and, again, the boy smirked. She had kicked a hole through it once, freaked the lot of guys out when the foot suddenly appeared in front of them. They had even taken her door away when she got too moody and depressed, after that, she was moody, depressed and angry.

A shiver ran through the boy's frame remembering just how hard it was to tick her off, but after you did…beware. Not only did the girl have an excellent memory for things or people who had the stupidity to upset her, but also she was very creative in the ways of getting those people back.

He should know. Chris had been on the receiving end of her temper more than once in his short time with her.

Two years were short compared to a lifetime.

Ignoring that, he went to his room and slammed the door shut.

There was no need to look at her door like she wasn't there.

No reason what so ever.

* * *

Chris blinked at the ceiling. No, the ceiling wasn't what woke him up. Turning over, the black haired male decided to forget about it, after all, it was only eight in the morning. Closing his eyes once again, there was that same sound.

His eyebrows knit together, trying to block out the offending noise. Then, with a realization, the boy sat straight up in his bed, threw the covers off of his legs and stomped to the door. Flinging it open, he glared at the first person his eyes landed on.

"Good morning, Chris." Jean said in a forced sweet tone.

"What the hell is going on?"

Jean's mask slipped a bit; she briefly glanced down trying to avoid the blue eyes boring into her. His eyes flickered to the cardboard box cradled in her arms. His mood wasn't the best and upon seeing the tip of Oreo bed sheets just plummeted to near homicidal.

"What is going on?" His voice was deadly low, not a true threat to the telepath had it been in any other situation.

"Chris," Jean started. "ItIt's time to let her go."

His eyes snapped wide and then quickly lowered into a nasty, pain promised glare. "She's not gone." Why couldn't anyone else believe him? They all thought he was in denial or something. Chris wasn't in denial; they were just delusional. No way would the person he considered his best friend just up and leave or evenNO! She was still around, just distracted.

"Chris, it's been four months. She's not coming back. You have to accept that she's"

"DON'T say it! She is not." Chris gave her a firm and steady look. He wasn't going to sit through this lecture yet again. First it was the Professor, then it was Dr. Frese and now suddenly it was Jean. What did they know? Nothing! They knew nothing!

Jean sighed and examined the box in her hands. "Why don't you go and pick something out? Bobby's already taken the doll she used to have all the time, Adam has Lucifer, youcan have something as well."

She was going to be livid when she came back to see all her stuff scattered amongst different occupants of the mansion. Well, except for the cat. She acted like she hated that fluffy menace, but sometimes he'd catch her laughing and scratching its stomach. Even then it might have been something different, for all he knew she could have been trying to claw it's tummy open.

"Fine." At least he would try and keep something of hers that she wouldn't pitch a fit about losing. Of course, the girl was prone to fit pitching just as she was prone to making and arse out of herself in front of everyone.

Jean nodded and turned away, box still in her hands. Was he imagining it or was she actually crying?

Walking cautiously into the girl's room, his heart had to do its best not to crack. It was so barren, so lifeless. Her sheets were gone, her closet was bare; they had even taken the computer out of the room. No more posters of odd movies or of anime characters. There was nothing but various picture frames and her telephone and answering machine.

Taking in the sight, Chris tried not to let everyone else's negative belief take hold of him. He knew she couldn't be gone. She couldn't. That would be giving up and she never gave up. Never. Studying the five pictures that sat near her bed on a small chest of drawers, a ghost of a smile traced his lips.

The first one was of her and Alexis; back-to-back and smiling like guilty cats. This must have been after they had filled the football player's plastic protective cups with itching powder. He would never forget how funny the entire football team wiggled and cursed uncomfortably at the homecoming game her senior year. It was payback for K'yo using her and Adrian confusing her. That had been a priceless moment.

The next was of Darcy. Chris felt a sharp knife plunge into his heart. He was the one that had to tell her little sister what everyone thought. Darcy burst in tears and cried for nearly an hour on his shoulder. He didn't know where she was now, living somewhere with their eccentric Grandmother.

Bobby and she were in the next picture and his face quickly darkened. That moron and she looked happy. She was hugging his shoulder from behind and he was just smiling at that camera. There was nothing worth seeing in that frame. Chris slammed it down on the dresser top.

The second to last was of the entire X-Citer team. Adam, Adrian, Julie, Daisy, him and then her. They all looked annoyed for the most part. Probably had something to do with the fact they were tied together around the waist once again. They had made it a full fifteen feet before promptly falling over on to each other. She had gotten up and started to rant about the stupidity of it all.

The last was of her family, well, her new family. Scott, Jean and herself. Scott's eyebrow was hiked up, Jean had an amused smile, and she had a pair of Scott's ruby quartz glasses on, holding Stitch and giving a victory sign with her fingers. Surely her parents would want this picture!

Leaving the dresser, he noticed something poking out from underneath the bed. Picking it up, his heart froze. It was the chubby angel that he had won for her during the time he had dressed up like Jack. She'd been so angry with him. Chris gave a pathetic laugh, for a whole week his name was 'I hate you'.

Yes, he'd take this; she'd never miss it. Glancing around the hallowed room, his eyes landed on her answering machine. It was weird he knew, but he always loved her sassy messages. Something along the lines of 'I'm ignoring you. If you leave a message, it's hard to ignore you. I'll have to try harder. I don't want to try harder, but if you've listened this far, you'll probably leave a message. But don't feel bad if you get ignored, I warned you.'

They had unplugged it a few months ago; the phone would just continue to ring constantly. Tucking it under his arm, Chris looked around the room again and then left.

She'd be so ticked off if she came back and realized her room had been gutted.

When, when she came back. Not if.

She would never give up hope so quickly, and he wouldn't either.

She was too stubborn to leave.

…but not to be left.

_And my heart will never know  
So I don't fall apart  
I fool myself for another day  
That you're not really gone  
After all this time it's still too hard to let you go  
And long as I don't say goodbye  
My heart will never know. _

* * *

Julie braced herself when Bobby walked past her, his emotions pricking her empathy. Anger, happiness, longing, and even a depression pushed far back in the recesses of his heart. Well, she thought with a bitter mind, it was better than having to deal with the romantic emotions he usually had flowing off of him.

The same emotions had flowed off of his girlfriend as well. It was cute, if you couldn't feel their stomach churning emotions crash into you all hours of the night and day. Of course there was lust, but never at night, just fleeting flickers during the oddest times from both of them.

But, as far as she could tell and with Julie's experience with couples who were intimately involved, they hadn't ever sealed that deal.

Daisy, her closest thing resembling a friend, was still moping slightly about the whole thing. Crying like a bloody newborn she had for weeks after it happened.

Not Julie, she couldn't care less about the skin morphing get in your face trollop. She had shed a few tears for show at the mock funeral they held and even allowed Daisy to use her as a living tear catcher.

The hard nosed Black Flame rolled her eyes in memory, watching the rest of the X-Men clear out of the Danger Room with emotions of exhaustion, relief, and disappointment reeking off of their bodies. Charles, Chuck, bald boss was sure to make them think quietly, couldn't he teach them to feel quietly as well?

Of course, Julie remembered, there was a time when her emotions had died. When that damn irritable Mute had shut off her powers. The girl shivered at the memory after she was sure no one was around to see her weakness.

She had turned into a zombie, barely feeling pain, barely able to tell if she was alive. Julie had spent the last five years of her life thriving and cursing on other peoples' emotions, to have it stripped away so quickly left her deaf and mute to those around her.

When her mutant ability flip switch had been turned back on, Julie couldn't stop absorbing all the emotions from everyone. As much as the troublesome empath hated to admit it, she needed other people's emotions to feel a connection. In some respects, the girl mused, she knew the people more intimately than any telepath could. Where they could only read others minds, she could read their hearts and there was nothing they could do to stop her.

Her ex-leader, who was probably ashes or worm food by now, had given her a healthy dose of anger and then turned it around into pathetic puppy love. Julie grumbled, punched in the code sequence for the program. The taste of that girl's emotions still tainted her tongue in a foul way.

It was a good thing she was gone, Julie never had to put up with her rapidly shifting emotions ever again.

Black Flame could have almost cried in happiness, yet this girl never cried.

Easing into an attack mode, the X-Citer flicked her wrists trying to loosen up the temperamental muscles. One dumb time she'd forgotten to do that and that girl had caught on, cornered her and demanded for her curiosity to be satisfied.

Julie hated her at that moment, and the flames rose now, recalling the sheer audacity that girl had in stripping her of her pride and darkest secret.

At least she hadn't been the first to know. Daisy was technically the first one who got the whole story, but then again, they had both been stupid in their early teens. It was because of the young teen weak brain link they grew to be something of friends.

They both knew what it was like to lose and be hurt by the world.

That girl didn't have a clue what it was like to lose everything because of a dumb choice.

Julie's body had gone into autopilot as she sailed through the first couple of Danger Room made up wankers. This was going to be an easy exercise; the British native had made sure it would be. She only needed the hours on her chart to prove she'd spent time in the Danger Room. Nothing ever said she had to break a sweat while in the room.

Black Flame smirked: life was too easy.

At least it was until her left hand once again crumpled. "Not now," she cursed it, pressing a thumb on her wrist and two fingers on the other side of her hand. Without one of her hands, she'd go down quickly. Growling in frustration, the girl looked through her sunglasses as a new enemy emerged.

This was not the time for her crippled hand to act like a frumpy housewife and do nothing!

Quickly stripping her left hand of the long black glove, the girl winced, noting the dark blue of her veins. Whenever her veins started to look like a smear of blueberry, she needed to see the doctor.

"Quit!" Julie yelled in irritation and the enemy quickly dissolved.

Great, now she'd have to tack on another hour.

* * *

"Just remember to take it easy, don't strain yourself." Dr. McCoy said firmly and slowly as if talking to a spoiled three year old with her fingers stuck in her ears. "I'll ask the Professor to excuse you from your sessions for the rest of the week."

"I'm not a weakling. I won't break." Julie ground out the words, cradling her bum hand in her semi-good one.

"I see, well then, I'll ask the Professor and Storm their opinions. You never know when we'll be called into action. Be back in two crinkles of a Twinkie wrapper."

Examining her messed up hands, the girl felt something akin to pain trickle through her iced heart but chose to ignore it. Probably just her stomach becoming ill at the sight of her own hands. It made everyone else sick, why should the owned be any different?

_"I guess we both have scars now." _

That stupid girl.

It was her own dumb fault for what she did. She just had to be the hero. She just had to be the big girl and stand up for what was right. She just had to have morals and sympathy.

Her leaving was the best thing that could have ever happened to the team!

No one really liked that girl, she was tiresome and boring and bossy and …

_"Dumb mistakes are selfish mistakes." _Julie remembered her saying right after one of the nastiest events took place, "_wise mistakes are when you screw up for someone else's_ _benefit." _

Something in her heart cracked. That girl had gone out of her way and lost her wings for the sake of her sister. Julie's own sister, Dorothy, wouldn't stick out her neck like that. Hell, her sister wouldn't give her a piece of gum off the bottom of her shoe after she'd walked through a grazing pastures for cows.

Trying to fathom dedication to one's sibling as strong as to lie down and take the beating of the millennium couldn't even begin to be grasped in the British girl's mind. And when that girl had woken up, she wasn't mad (Julie should know, she would have felt it) she was only scared and confused. When that girl got her voice back, she would not stop asking about her sister and her mother.

Loone stood in awed disgust about the total lack of self-preservation this girl had. Didn't she realize she had almost died?

Another reason the girl was a moron.

A moron, Julie admitted tracing her finger tips over the numerous deep, round scars on her hands, thatshe missed.

Maybe missed was a strong word, more like had gotten use to. Without that girl's sarcasm and emotions, it felt like Julie was walking around the mansion with only one sock on. The cold reality every one had been slapped with effected her emotions because that girl's leaving had effected all their emotions.

Not because the whole bloody team had missed her, but, somewhere in the heart of the girl, she missed that girl.

She was everything Julie wished for in her older sister. Bossy, yes, but that was a given. There were things that that girl would do. She could keep her tongue tied and swallowed when pestered about secrets. She would never intentionally hurt any of them unless provoked, stood up for the team when no one else would, and justwas the most sacrificing big sister she had ever met.

She had loved her sister that much.

And yet it wasn't that which had sent her away, it was the team's fault. Why the hell did they let her go back in alone? Knowing that the building was going to collapse in on itself at any moment and she wanted to double check for any personnel. God, they had been so stupid.

Why did they let her go back?

Why didn't they just tape her to the plane and say 'no'?

Why did she have to go?

Why did it hurt?

Julie shook her head trying to stop what she knew was about to come, trying to stop her non-existent heart from breaking but there are some things that are out of anyone's control, even for an empath.

Fight it she did, but in the end, she lost.

Her ears strained to hear any movement. If she was going to lose this battle it would be better to do it in private. Because if anyone saw what she was about to do she would definitely have to kill later.

A slight tightening of the throat, a burning of the eyes, Julie hadn't done this in such a long time. She never had her time of mourning but there was no one to play to right now. Her mask slipped from her face and landed with an inaudible mental crash on the floor of the med. lab.

Knowing it was futile Julie finally broke down and cried for a friend.

_So let me cry by myself  
'Cause these tears will help to wash away the pain  
I know in time they will dry  
But for now please go away and let me cry_

* * *

He smiled.

Oh yes, he still smiled. What would the point of letting everyone seeing him cry?

But he couldn't smile all the time. There were times, at night, when he'd walk out of the house grinning, go half way to the cemetery and then let his guard down. His best friends weren't fooled, not at all. But they pretended along with Bobby, because they knew him well enough to know that he'd never let them in before he was ready.

And in the six weeks since her death, he still wasn't ready. Now it was much longer than that and he still wasn't ready. Could he admit that she was dead? Sure! No problem. How could he forget? He had to walk past her room every day to get to his own. Chris was almost clinical about his denial of her death.

Not Bobby. Bobby was too cool to pretend she was going to waltz in through the door again. He wished she would, he'd love to see her for a split second to say he was sorry for the things they'd said to one another. But that split second was never granted and the only place he could feel connected to her was in the cemetery.

Kerry's body wasn't there.

They weren't sure _where_ it was. Chris insisted that there wasn't one to find unless you looked among the living. Bobby just kept smiling.

He smiled and joked the entire trip to the compound where she had been killed. Dr. Frese has recommended that all who grieved and had a survival's guilt (such as Chris) go and perform an act of closure.

What he wasn't expecting to find when he stepped off the plane was Bishop standing over the spot they roughly guessed she had been killed.

Chris muttered under his breath as Jean and Scott pushed him forward. Bobby had no problem walking up to the time jumper.

"Hey, Lucas!" The much larger in height and muscle mass man locked up but turned to acknowledge the Iceman. "Didn't think we'd find you out here." Out here was now covered with a grass and wild flowers. The walls that use to stand about twelve feet had crumbled to about two or less foot high hill at the collapse.

"I came to pay my respects." Bishop commented coolly, raising his hand again. Bobby's head tipped to the side as a hand held device bleeped when the black man turned it to the left of the death scene.

"What's that?"

His eyes narrowed slightly and Bobby felt his smile slip into a frown as his eyebrows wove together for a moment before relaxing.

"A theory."

Bobby's brown eyebrow twitched upward. "Of what?"

"About Blight."

His heart twisted painfully in his chest at the mention of her name. Most people had avoided saying it around him for a good reason. He could only take so much before breaking after all.

"What about her? Think you know where the body might be?" It was so calculated, so cold to ask such a question as if asking about the clouds.

"No. I have no idea where the body could be." The taller male looked over the shorter man's head, inspecting where the other of the party were located. Turning to see what it was Bishop was looking at, Bobby saw the three he'd come with off in a corner. Chris had his arms crossed and the look of death on his face as Jean seemed be trying to gently tell him something. Scott, as normal, stood in stony silence.

"Then what are you doing out here? Watching the grass grow?"

"No." Bishop was always the talkative sort Bobby mentally, sarcastically thought. "I found something a bit more interesting."

"What would be more interesting than finding a body?"

"Finding an escape hatch that might mean there is no body."

Bobby's eyes widened in shock.

"I'm not going to inform the others. There is no need to make them think there is a possibility when it might be nothing." He showed the screen of his hand held gadget to the man. "I've scanned the surface around here to see what the structure was like. Beast also gave me the supposed blueprints that were held within the computers of this place. Two things pointing that there was most likely an escape tunnel in the inner most laboratory. The same place that Blight is thought to have reached before her last contact."

With nothing else to say, the jokester popped off the first thing that came to his mind. "It makes sense," he shrugged, not allowing himself to become hopeful. "She was a _Summers_ after all." The brunette thought again, "but wouldn't she have been found by Wolverine? What about Jean?"

"There was too much debris for him to get a clean scent in the woods though he did scout about a mile in every direction. Blight's mind was unbreachable since her mutation depended mainly on defense."

"So it could be just another ghost." the man scoffed. "Figures. I wouldn't tell anyone anything either. I'd hate for them to have to dig up the empty casket." Bobby rattled off a few more inane things before walking away laughing at one of his own jokes.

The black man watched his companion go before he turned away. Bishop looked off into the distance, eyes narrowing. The future was always able to be rewritten but if things happened anywhere near as to what happened in his future's past, this was only the beginning.


End file.
